"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.
The Priest stands, still as stone, in the midst of the swaying summer grass. His face, as it always does, has a grim cast to it and with his pupil-less eyes shifting like molten metal he is an imposing and otherworldly sight. If any could see the inside of his mind, however, they would know that he poses little threat to anyone. In his head, his heart, there spans a vast emptiness where the voices of his lost gods had been, without them filling him, guiding him, the grown stallion was more unsure that a suckling colt that had lost its mother. Directionless, purposeless, he felt like a limb that had been torn from its body, a leaf floating on in an ocean so far from its tree.
It was even strange to feel at all. In the Rift, in the ranks of his order, he had been akin to a machine. The voices of the gods in his head would give the orders and her would follow them. Without thought, without hesitation, and (more often than not, considering the multitude of wild and heedless beings that had ruled him and his kind) he had followed those order without conscience. His last act before being ripped from his own world might seem gallant, might seem right, but it had only been an order, just like all the rest. Save the pale priestess the gods had said, and he had, just before they had been thrown together to this place that the Burning One had called Helovia.
When the fighting had broken out in the salt flats, he had clung to the continuation of this last order and ushered the blind mare away from the fighting. They had come to the edge of the meadow before he had been sure that they were alone, that they were safe, and that was where he had stopped.
‘What now?’ The question echoes in the vast emptiness on his mind and he waits for an answer that will not come from any other. It must come from him, but as as long as the Priest could remember, there had never been a him that existed independently of his gods, and his gods were gone.
but this is your heart
can you feel it? can you feel it?
She's followed him away from the battle that ensued so quickly after they were thrust into a land so very different from their own. She's remained quiet, this pale priestess that he risked his life to save on the whim of their gods, because she's wondering the same thing that the indigo priest is. What now? There is a very distinct emptiness that she feels in this new world, a sort of disconnect that she cannot quiet explain or understand, but she feels it and she doesn't like it.
She heard the fighting as the indigo priest ushered her away from this new land that they stumbled in to and as she stands beside the priest she feels a sense of loss. Her mouth is a thin line and her eyes are closed beneath the blindfold as she tries to feel for any kind of spiritual connection to their gods, but she only finds an acute emptiness that makes her sigh. "This isn't right." She murmurs softly to the priest at her side. "There is something very wrong here."
Surely there has to be a way for them to get home, she thinks, but then she begins to wonder 'What if we're meant to be here.' The thought makes her frown and it makes her wonder, but she's never questioned her gods before. If they've been sent away from their home to this new land that feels so wrong then it had to be for a reason. They have to have some sort of purpose here... wherever here was... but how can they know when they don't have any sort of connection with their gods...?
Her head turns and she reaches to touch her muzzle to the indigo priest's shoulder. "Do you feel anything?" She asks and she assumes that he will understand what she's asking. 'Can you feel the gods? Are they here? Are we alone?'
"."
To the ends of the earth would you follow me?
There's a world that was meant for our eyes to see
She speaks…He hears the words and they ring out in the silence that her hears despite the softness of her voice. They are a beacon in the darkness, the truth that they bear is one of the first solid things that he can reach for in this new world. No, this is not right.
‘What is the will of the Gods?’ that is a question the Priest had asked without ceasing since he had come into their service. All that happened was there will, and when the deemed it so, he had served in helping to serve they wishes. If he—no…‘they’…the priestess had come with him—if they were cast out of their land and into this foreign one then it must be the will of the Gods but now a question materialized that the Priest had never asked before, that he must ask if this deafening silence from Them was to persist. Why had they been cast out?
He feels the press of her muzzle on his shoulder and turns his massive head to look down at her. She is so very different from him, dainty and pristine and winged, while he is rotund and horned and blue, but still somehow her knows exactly what it is she asks. Stray thoughts, the vestiges of a long suppressed curiosity, suddenly rapid-fire through his mind. There had been no women in his order but perhaps they had had their own, perhaps she had served the gods like he had and could no longer hear their voices. Had they come together for some purpose?
“No.” It was a quiet word murmured near her hear as his head was still curled around to hover over hers. There was the beginnings of emotion in it, or regret, but what he was not sure how to feel he was not sure how to express or even name. “Before, I could hear their voices always, and now there is only silence.” His thoughts reached back to the battle he had fled, to the lone voice he had not recognized in his confusion. “I think… I think one of Them followed us through but….but he is silent now as well.”
His silver eyes found the pieces of shackle that still lingered around her legs. They had been ignored in their haste but now her felt…. he felt sorry for that oversight. He tried to reach out as he had before, and break the metals with a thought, but he could not. A new pain, like another limb severed, sliced at him, but not so keen and being cut off from his gods. “Their gift to me is gone.” he said in the same near-monotonous tone. “I cannot move the metal.”
but this is your heart
can you feel it? can you feel it?
Her eyes close beneath the cloth that is wrapped around her face and she sighs because she had hoped to be wrong. She had hoped that the priest would still have his connection to the gods and the answers to the questions that plagued her mind. "Where are we? Why are we here? Can we go home and if so when?" She feels defeated and her body sags, slumps, and she leans against the priest at her side. "I can't either." She whispers. "I've always been able to feel them... but I can't here..." "And I want to go home." It is, perhaps, and irrational desire to return to the place that had her caged, but the priest had freed her. The gods were on her side.
“I think… I think one of Them followed us through but….but he is silent now as well.”
Her heart feels like it stops beating altogether and she lifts her head from where it is resting on the priest's shoulder. "The fight..." Her voice trails, but there is pain laced in every syllable. He ushered her away quickly, but she remembers the sound of fighting. She remembers screams and shouts, the crackling of fire, the trembling ground. "They ... they attacked him." She whispers, and each word is a knife in her heart. They attacked her god. She blinks and she shakes her head as if that will give her some understanding. They brought them all here and they attacked their god.
Why?
"We have to go back." She finally says, but she pauses when the priest tells her that he's lost the gift the gods had bestowed upon him. "You can't...?" And suddenly it makes sense, but she doesn't want it to. She wants to deny what is so blatantly obvious, but nothing else can explain their severed tie with their god or the priest's sudden inability to control metal. "He's dead." Her voice is quiet, solemn as she speaks what she feels can only be the truth.
"."
To the ends of the earth would you follow me?
There's a world that was meant for our eyes to see
In the order physical contact was a rare thing and wholly utilitarian when used at all. So when the mare sagged against him his brow furrowed in confusion. She had not ben injured, he had made sure of that, so his first instinct was to try and come up with some other physical ailment that would make her unable to stand on her own. His strange, silver gaze drifted over her, trying to find the source of weakness but there was not to be found.
Comfort. The word came back to him like a whisper, carried on the winds of time from a life he had lived before the Order. There was something, he should do, he thought, and his memory reached for the forgotten gestures and mannerisms that he had neither given nor sought for almost a decade—though he had since stopped counting the years. Somewhere in that fog of memory he saw a mare, sky blue and beautiful, drape her neck over that of an indigo colt that had not yet received the silver bands of service, and he felt the distant warmth of the mother he had forgotten. Awkwardly, still not sure what he was doing or what good it would do, he moved his massive head to drape his neck over the priestess and pull her close for a moment before releasing her to shift his gaze back towards the thistle-covered meadow.
’He’s dead.”The grief that rolled like quiet storms through his mind while the woman seemed to find words for the suspicions he had formed: one of their gods was dead, somehow overpowered by the denizens of this foreign land. How that was possible the priest could not explain. In the Rift the Gods were the omnipotent and almighty masters. “I should have gone back, I should have realized but I…” The priest’s words faltered. ”I had to get you away.” was what he had meant to say but something stopped him. It was irrational, but somehow that felt like placing the fault on her shoulders and he could not bring himself to do it. “I did not recognize his need in the commotion. I would not have believed one of the Mighty could be felled.”
“Perhaps he was weakened by the crossing. And there was one, when we first crossed over, golden and wreathed in flame, who was more than the others. They called him a god but I do not know the truth it.” And now the question of why they had been brought there and what they were meant to do next. “Our Gods have their reasons, though we may not know our true purpose here until the full expanse of time has been played out. Perhaps they meant to send us here, or at the least knew we would be taken and so they sent me to fetch you.” Again he felt as if her should reach out, and so he did, regardless of of the logic of these strange gestures for they somehow seemed to settle his mind as well. Raising his muzzle, he pressed his nose to her forehead and let it rest there gently for a moment. “We are castaways, but we are not so desolate as we might have been and our own Divine are to thank for that. Take heart, Priestess.”
but this is your heart
can you feel it? can you feel it?
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