"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.
Virgil was a broken, exhausted, and tattered version of his former self. Though who that self used to be, Virgil could no longer say. The days of courts and palaces, knights errant and Adria ... those were all so far behind him as to be daydreams or nightmares. No longer did Virgil know what was real and what was not. No longer did day bleed into night and then back into day; everything existed in a grim haze that seemed to follow him everywhere.
Hell was real, and he was in it.
Virgil knew that now. This was not purgatory, this was punishment. Why else hadn't he found Adria? If this was the real world and not some hellish illusion, then why had his searching proven fruitless? Why did smoke and fire follow in his hoofprints, and why did sleep elude him?Why were his days masked with pain and his movements laboured and hard?
"If there is a God-" He pleaded, falling to his knees and placing his face upon the harsh, jagged rocks, "Let my death come swiftly. Kill me now. Please. This I beg of you. I know my failures. Please, let this be it."
Isopia, who was not normally one to stop and dwell on the words of others, especially when they were not meant for her, was nonetheless grasped by the melancholy words of the man before her. The ashen stallion was on his knees - knees which appeared weathered and tired - and was asking for death.
Begging for it, by the sounds of things.
Curiously the golden-eyed girl strayed closer, ears perked and head low. If death was what he wanted, why not simply throw himself into the fires of the heart? Why not jump from one of the cliffs, impale himself upon something sharp, drink poison? Why beg the Gods for death, when it was always well within your grasp?
"The Gods here will not kill you." Isopia offered, her voice studious and neutral as always. "They would likely find something strange about the request ... say something about the sanctity of life. There are ways in which you could -" Isopia paused as Hubris swatted her angrily across the neck, tittering in her mind.
>>No! Offer help! <<
You mean, tell him I could kill him?
>>NO.<< Hubris thought back exasperatedly. Isopia groaned, now understanding Hubris' meaning, and turned her gaze back to Virgil. "Is there anything I can do to make you not want to kill yourself?" She asked awkwardly, pinning her ears as Hubris swatted her once again.
Virgil started, as if having expected that the hand of God would come down and swiftly end his life, rather than addressing him. The former knight's sea-green eyes turned trying to find the owner of the voice through a dizzying blur. Ghostly vapors swirled around the stallion as he slowly got to his knees, as if slowly drinking in Isopia's words.
He looked as though he was going to say something in response, but his face fell flat and his eyes dropped to the rocky ground.
"Death is the only end that I deserve now." He rumbled in respond, lifting his chin almost proudly to regard the demigoddess, wondering almost hopefully that perhaps she was some sort of demon who could grant his request, if only he played her games.
"No. Nothing." He answered her levelly, his eyes meeting hers. "I know what I am, and what I deserve." Despite the mists that crowded around him, with his chin raised and a fire in his eyes, he looked almost as he once did: brave, confident, pious.
The more this stranger spoke, the more Isopia was intrigued. He did not speak as many here did - there was an honesty about him, and a knowingness that she found invigorating and captivating. Perhaps she should wish that he would remain living for his own sake, but she found herself wanting to prolong his life if only to understand him better. To know whatever it was that he did, that made him this way.
"Despite the fact that death comes to us all, it seems rather illogical to say we deserve it. Can we deserve the inevitable? What sort of sense does that make?" She asked, quad-horned skull tilting slightly. "What you are is irrelevant. Although.." Despite Hubris mental insistence that she should not say what was in her mind, she did it anyways. The bronze dragon dug his talons into her neck, producing pricks of blood, but Isopia ignored him; her mind far too interested to bother with the pains of her body.
"You have the means to end your own life. It is a power within us all. Why do you cry to the Gods to aid you, when you are in need of no such aid?"
Yes ... but her questions, Virgil decided that she surely was a demon, or some sort of wayward spirit. She could kill him, of that he was sure - by the look of her bulk, of the horns on her head and the magic he assumed was whirling through her body, she could do it.
The question was how.
"Though death is obligatory ... perhaps I mean that the timing is what I deserve. I might live a handful more years like this, but I deserve to die now. Both for my crimes, as well as for my penance." He answered, sounding less sure of himself now that he thought he was dealing with a demon.
At Isopia's second question, a smile passed over Virgil's lips for a moment. This was a test, but it was one that he would not fail. He was far too familiar with the rules. "You know as well as I, that for my soul to escape this place, my death cannot come by my own hand. Such would solidify my place in hell."
"Are you your own judge and jury then? If not, who is it who subjects you to such an early demise?" Isopia didn't recognize this stallion ... and while that was not entirely surprising given how large Helovia was, she couldn't help but wonder if he was one of the creatures who came through the Rift. The mist swirling around him and his odd declarations (not to mention when he cried out earlier, he had called for God, as if there was only one), all suggested that perhaps he was not native to Helovia.
As he indicated that his answer should have been obvious to her, she paused, racking her brain. Should she know something about this? As far as she understood, there was nothing necessarily untoward about the taking of your own life. It was yours to take after all? Why should he think anything would happen to his soul based on his actions here?
" If you ask someone to kill you, aren't you in fact merely using them? Turning them into an implement? Isn't that the same as doing the deed yourself?"
Virgil faltered for a moment, feeling as though perhaps he wasn't up to the intellectual task of taking on a demon. He was sure that if he asked for a reprise to think of an adequate response that she would vanish and leave him to wander this hellish landscape even longer than he already had. He bayed himself to think up a response, but his mind came up blank. Instead, all he could focus on was the fire burning softly around him, and how the flames seemed to be calling his name.
"M-my soul knows what is right and wrong and though I have always tried to walk the straight path, I-.. I have faltered, for I have ended up here. Nevertheless, I require no council to know of my errors. I have made my penance and ask now that I be freed from this prison. "
Her second question makes him swallow hard, and he nods his head. "Of course, you are correct. And that is why it would be a fight to the death, and not a passive submission to a blade. " He eyed her for a moment, wondering what it was she was getting at. Surely she knew as much? Perhaps he needed to be more bold. More outright.
"That is what I ask of you. A fair fight, until one of us succumbs to our injuries."
The moral compass that she wears around her neck feels heavy for a moment, but as her gaze lowers to look at it, it spins uselessly, giving no actual answer to indicate what it was she ought to do.
"I am the daughter of a God." She began, her gaze narrowing slightly as the words uncomfortably left her lips. "There is much magic in my blood, and I am no stranger to the battlefield. I have killed before. My dragon alone could likely end your life-" She added, glancing over her shoulder towards Hubris who snorted, but said nothing. "You would surely perish, painfully. There are easier and swifter ways of dying." The demi-goddess eyed Virgil uncertainly, wondering whether or not she could actually fight him to the death, even if she ruled in his favour.
Logically, she was unsure what her position was. On the one hand, to end his life was his own choice. Having seemingly made of it free of any constraints, it was his to take. That he could not end it on his own and asked for her help, didn't seem like much of a barrier.
And yet .. something nagged in the back of her mind. Something unsure.
Something in her seemed to change, and for a moment, Virgil thought that he was getting somewhere. As she revealed that she was the daughter of a God, a smile lit his face. Perhaps he would have mercy after all and his soul would not be long for this earth. Yet that smile faltered as she once again tried to persuade him. His grey muzzle shook, almost angrily, as she mentioned easier and swifter ways of dying.
"Ease is not the point, demigoddess." He began. "An easy road walked does not a well-traveled man, make. There is only way that my soul can nobly leave this earth and find its way from this purgatory and to heaven. You are capable, as you have mentioned. You will prove a worthy adversary to remove me from this prison." Virgil resisted the urge to fidget; to swat away the growing haze that had formed around him, or to shift his posture. He was afraid that at any moment she might grow bored of him and depart. But .. if she was a goddess rather than a demon, perhaps she was bound to him somehow. Perhaps she had to help?
Not that Isopia necessarily wanted to dissuade Virgil from his purpose, but she did find it oddly dissatisfying that she seemed to be losing this argument. She found herself wanting to argue simply for the sake of besting him, rather than for the sake of finding out the truth. Her tail swished with annoyance.
"What if you are wrong? What if the penance that you mentioned wasn't complete? Wasn't long enough? What if you die and find yourself in hell for having failed to account for that which brought you here?"
Isopia's golden eyes narrowed almost challengingly. Only now did she realize that should she lose this banter, she would find herself in the bizarre position of being expected to battle this man to the death. Did she think that she could? Yes. But ought she? She hadn't entirely answered that for herself, and yet she could find no words to voice the uncertainty she felt.
Was this how everyone else felt? Wanting to go off of their gut feelings, despite having no arguments to support them?
Virgil breathed out, relief colouring his ashen cheeks. He was getting somewhere. He was finally getting to the end.
"I'm not." He said with a small, knowing smile. For a moment his eyes lifted, regarding the sky overhead that twinkled with stars just beginning to bleed through the red dusk.
"I have endured a lifetime of servitude. I have given all that I have to those I have served, and for my transgressions, I offer whole and honest repentance. I have completed my penance and now ask of you that you aid me in freeing my soul, so that I might finally rest. It is a small effort on your part surely, and I shall give you my sword as a reward." Virgil paused, taking a breath, and then raising his eyes Isopia. "Please." Virgil almost croaked. "I am so very, very tired of this life. I have no more need for it, and it has no more need of me."
This was precisely why Isopia didn't bother with arguments pertaining to religion. There was simply no winning. I'm not? Was that all he had to say in favour of the possibility that his life might end without his goal fulfilled? That it might all be for nothing? Despite her typical disapproval of physical responses to her anger, Isopia wanted nothing more than to stomp her hooves in frustration. But what more was there to say? The man seemed sure of himself and offered this solution as his only method of escape.
The only real question was whether or not Isopia would assist him in his quest, or whether he would have to find another.
Surely there were many in Helovia who would happily put an end to this man's life. Perhaps they would even enjoy it. But .. there was something about this ... about his insistence... or was it because she was the daughter of the God who breathed life into the world, and who always knew when it was time to take it away?
Father, what do I do? Isopia wondered silently.
However as Virgil mentioned his weariness with the world, a feeling Isopia knew well, she made her decision.
"Very well. But I would take your name with me before I take your life."
The grey stallion exhaled a sigh of relief before he could help himself. Immediately he looked rather sheepish, but exhilaration and joy quickly took over his features. He had done it. He had finally found a way to get out of this hellish purgatory, and if he fought valiantly enough, to find his way into heaven.
As the demigoddess asked for his name, he, unlike her, offered it gladly. "I am called Virgil." He said, his voice ringing true and proud in the diminishing light. The stallion bowed his head slightly, neck cresting as if making Isopia's acquaintance rather than asking her to beat him until he could no longer take in a breath. "I thank you for what you are about to do. I want to tell you that now in case I don't have the chance. I realize what it is I am asking, and for the rest of this life, and what comes next, I will forever remember this act of kindness."
"I am Isopia." She said, her voice exceedingly soft and almost delicate. It sounded so unlike her. Perhaps she offered Virgil her name, because in exchange for his life, she thought it a fair trade. Or perhaps it was simply because he would never have the chance to speak it to anyone. Whatever the reason, Isopia returned his slight bow with one of her own, though hers was deeper, and her wings fanned from her sides rather elegantly, allowing her red cloak to billow out behind her.
Rising, she squared her golden gaze on the shorter stallion, her face solemn and still. She was no demon of death, yet adorned with blood-splattered markings of her own and a deathly-marked face, she was certainly no angel either. Isopia took a breath, allowing the stillness to spread long between them. She would have to break it sooner or later, and break a good many other things as well.
It seemed so strange that Virgil was dead, and she was standing with only a few injuries. Already the healing magic in her blood had eased the pain in her eye, and she could open it now without tears oozing from it. Her vision was still blurry on the left side, but she could already tell that there would be no permanent damage.
Hubris still had his hand on the stallion's flank, and appeared to be ignoring Isopia. The demi-goddess, not necessarily one for understanding the emotions of others, especially complex ones, was already doing her best to compartmentalize this situation.
"I could make him a grave here.." She offered, as if needing to win back the dragon's approval or make up for something. Though Isopia did not know what, she could sense the disappointment coming from the bronze in spades. "Or we could put him in the lava so that becomes dust ... or into the sea.." Her voice trailed off, entirely unsure what standard it was she was trying to meet.
This was it. The small girl pumped herself up. No more waiting about and wafting around. The light blue girl practically dances from the borders of her hidden home. Her nerves shooting electricity up her spine. It was rather exciting, and…nerve wracking. Though she wouldn’t be able to name it as such, the girl was actually a bit scared. Always the youth had wanted adventure. She’d bolted from her cave even as a filly. Then when the time came and she came to this place she’d journeyed about as well, bounding and leaping across the plains. But then she’d come to the Falls. She’d found a quiet hollow. And for some untold reason…found it hard to leave. The pearl had nested in the Falls, and never left. Even the temptation of exploration, to find Alysanne or some other adventure had left her short.
Perhaps it was because the small girl who had always desired adventure had suddenly found herself in one. And found it to be more than she expected, and the quite, calm life hidden in a herd was safe and restful. Perhaps….perhaps.
But the girl had seen enough creatures come and go. She had heard tales of things moving beyond their walls, and with the cold weather at last breaking, the girl was braving to step across the border again. She didn’t quite know what direction to head, all except for north and further cold would do. But she also knew the south held that tricky maze which she was not in a mood to get back into. So west it was. The path she actually knew, though barely, took her towards the old caves she used to haunt.
It was how she came here. It was how she found them. Their familiar voices drawing her innocent curiosity.
“Virgil?!” It leapt with happy excitement, one so hopeful and delighted, it could not translate his voice, only hear it, hear the sounds. Oh but Virgil! How she’d hoped for so long. All at once the built up home sickness released like a flood gate in her chest and the girl practically leapt through the cave. The breeze picked up about her, whipping like an afternoon summer’s trade wind. Light, but full of energy, full of happiness. Oh if she could find Virgil! Oh if it was him! All the secret worries and sadness she’d kept, kept even from herself, would be ended. If she could find Virgil, she’d have a piece of home. She was ever such an innocent child. And that quality rarely lasts in this world.
“Virgil!” She sees him upon the floor. The dark pools about him and cutting him were not yet noticed. Even the delight of finding a dragon near him, or on him rather, couldn’t distract her. Which knowing our child, is saying something. The child leaps through the rocky terrain with a light nimbleness to his side. (Her wings ever close to her side, betraying once more their uselessness to her). Her delight was not affected by the smell of blood, or even the red which stains him. So much of that was part of her past, so much of that was normal. She had even seen him in such states…perhaps even put him there once or twice in practice. So the naïve girl must be forgiven…her ignorance excused as she continued to smile and be blind to the tension and weight of the air of death.
“Virgil, oh I’ve missed you. Stop messing about, I have so much….to tell…you…“ Yet it doesn’t take long though. One curled hark leans back and for the first time in her life the girl is truly unsure. Her delicate gaze casts to the other, the Mountain that Knows, her Czarina. Why was she her? What was she saying? Why did she look like- But the girl can’t focus on that, she’d found Virgil…right? Yet, even she can’t escape the world now. Even the child who’s heart was so pure could not escape the feeling that something was wrong. “Virgil?” It comes more shakily and the wind dies at her back, stiller than the doldrums.
The girl had never seen death. Always it had been kept away from her. Especially by the stallion who lay before her now. Often the matches in their land would end in death, but it was glorified, and the girl knew only it was a celebration. Even her mother’s death had been twisted into some lesson, a celebration. Her brother had been there to comfort her. Her father had been there to give it reason. Virgil had been there to help move her on. But now….now there was no one.
The wind breaks over her back, whipping her mane against her neck. “What have you done?!” It shrieks, it breaks, it lifts, her voice reaching pitches it never had before. She had known death was there, but always was it a distant figure in the mists, never her best friend, her only connection to home, at her feet. “Virgil!” It breaks the girl. The sound of a childhood innocence finally being lost. Knees wobbled and gave way, and the fine head, usually held so carefully, falls uncaring on the red stained hide.
Tears begin to flow hot and fast, trailing down her pale cheeks, before being ripped from her by her own growing storm. Her father would tell her to keep face, her brother to pull her grace to the side, Virgil to- But he wasn’t here! None were here! It worsens her grief, ripping her from all manner of self control. All of her grief, all of her misery built over the months from home comes rushing forth something the girl had never before been described as, an ugly beast of sorrow and misery.
It twists in her, corrupts her. The grief morphing her into something other than herself. Her wings even fall open with her and over his ashen body. They drape over, him as her head nestles into the crick of his neck, hidden from her own powers as the whirled around her like a building storm, and she not caring if his blood stained her pure coat. And the tears flow hot and free. The pearl’s whole body shutters and her head turns looking up to his closed face. The company about her totally forgotten. It had always been such the opposite… But her sea blue eyes tremble, as her voice croaks out a mangled phrase between her grief. “B-but I wanted t-to go homme….” But it was time the child learned, there are some adventures you can’t return from.
Isopia in places deep with roots entwined
i live among you, well disguised
Of all the faces she thought she might see, the youthful and colourful face of the winged girl was certainly not one of them. Adria was a quiet soul, one of their healers. She'd been nothing but pleasant, if not slightly timid (though perhaps that was just what Isopia had poorly gleaned more her). Certainly she'd never mentioned a warrior who believed that he was in Hell, much less one named Virgil.
Or had she? Had Isopia simply not been listening?
Something like dread swept across her. Or was it some species of embarrassment? Isopia, who rarely introspected and who spent even less time categorizing the emotions that she did feel, had no idea. All she knew was that there was something that felt prickly and uncomfortable beneath her skin that had blossomed brightly when Ava had appeared.
Isopia swallowed hard and turned to face the girl now crouched at Virgil's side. She seemed to be saying something to him, as if he still had a mind with which to understand her with.
"He's gone." Isopia clarified, though one glare from Hubris told the demi-goddess that this information would likely not be helpful. "He begged me to do it." Isopia continued, and if she had thumbs, she would have been anxiously twiddling them. "He said that he didn't belong here, and that for his soul to be free, he needed to leave this purgatory. But he couldn't do it himself ... so I.."
Killed him
Murdered him
She'd had this argument once before, only now she couldn't remember it. She said her child had died, but of course she'd actually murdered it.
Just like how Virgil wasn't dead, he'd been killed.
By her.
"-helped him" She finally managed, averting her golden gaze slightly to look at the midnight-coloured ground. "I can use my magic to bury him, if you like.. or.. we could let nature have him.." Her voice trailed off as if somehow this was Ava's decision.
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