Heroica RPG - Heroica Hall

[Endgame]

My tired eyes dart around the hall, surveying all of its coming and goings. Too much melancholy. Shame, the one place I fit into I don't want to... I pull the Z-mail out of my cloak and lay it on the table before me. I caress my aching temples as I look contemplatively down upon the parchment. All of this blasted inner conflict, and this magical scrap of paper was the source of it. And yet.. Something more lurked in the envelope. Something that enamored, and yet terrifed me.

"Sorrow... Sorrow, just do it. If he is alive, I'll disspear... If not, both of our suffering will continue, and the burden will crush us. Do it."

Syntax's voice echoes in the back of my mind. The usuallly snide alter ego's voice now carried an air of sadness - and a hint of madness, insanity. Syntax was the embodiment of the guilt my soul bears, the summation of my fears and the amalgam of my rotten memories. He was all of these things, made out of what I considered the bane of my existence. But he was also suicidal, for the lack of a better word. My alter ego didn't want to exist - all that hed had was tormenting memories, after all.

"Father... Please, tell me you are alive..." I murmur.

And with that, I uncork a bottle of ink, roll out the Z-mail, take out a pen... and begin. It was as if a mental embargo was broken, the words flowing from my head to the paper. A lost child writing to daddy - that was all I was. It didn't matter, though. Not in the slightest. All I wanted was to see dad again...

I seal the envelope, and hold it before my eyes. I study the envelope's every detail, as if in some sort of futile way of delyaing what I was about to do. This letter would either give me purpose - or invalidate my very existence. Lets see if I reason to live, shall we?

"I've got Z-mail." I whisper.

And then -- poof. Gone. The letter vanished into thin air. Whether or not it would ever reach its receptient though was another matter entirely. With a sigh that carried a four-hundred year old sorrow, I begin to stand up. My unnatural body literally creaks as it draws itself back up to full height. My eyes downcast, looking towards my feet, I pace the hall worriedly - sweating, almost. My steps echo around the hall, sounding in an unnatural pattern as I walk back and forth, back and forth. I whispered, murmured, muttered, begged under my breath for a response. Any response.

"Father..."

[Chromeknight]

Nerwen nods at Haldor's words.

You look like you could use a drink. Never fear, I am sure your novice won't eat you. That generally happens on the third date. But do not be fooled, though you might not think it a date, her opinion on it may well be different.

Nerwen gets up to go fetch drinks from the bar, whilst her keen hearing tracks Nyx's conversation with Lord Lawrence. As she goes she nearly runs into the pacing rogue, Sorrow.

Cam'wetherin, you seem very ill at ease. Are you quite well?

[The Legonater]

Dyric watches the chosen questers leave for Duplovia, then turn when his new-found companion Sorrow gets up and begins to pace.

He knew that feeling all too well. He wanted to offer words of comfort, but none came to mind. They never did.

He notices an elf rises to comfort Sorrow, and decides to sit back and watch.

[Zepher]

"I would seize it, if only the bastard were actually here. That's.. the problem."

"Patricia? I'm sure she'd be absolutely delighted to see us both again." at least she'd moved on to sarcasm; better than moping at least.

Boomingham awkwardly rocks in his seat a little as Nyx worries more about love. His eyes glaze over even more so, and he sips distractedly at the dredges of the drink Nerwen left behind, hardly aware it is not his. "The way I see it," he mumbles. "Is that you either go after it, or you move on. No point chasing phantoms and ghosts. Stuck in the past... or onwards and upwards." He swallows the last few words and then sputters, almost like he's choking, and then coughs one or twice. He looks down at the empty glass in hand, and realizing it is not his sets it back on the table.

"We didn't quite get the chance to save her guards, but I don't doubt she knows that we tried our hardest. Can't say I liked that Purple and his gang we headed over with, but the Captain seemed a more than fair women, in more ways than one," Boomingham says with a wink and clearing his throat a little bit more.

[Endgame]

I sigh as I nearly trample over Nerwen, trapped in my own little realm of worry and self-pity. I stop my pacing and sit down, my eyes still downcast.

"Nerwen... You, you already know my... father issues, lets call them. This was my first attempt to confront him since... By Helvetia, Nerwen, it must've been before you were even born. A little more then four-hundred years ago, my father was permanently sealed - by my own friend, no less. He was all I had back then, Nerwen. I was crushed - I set off from home, determined to find some sort of cure, remedy, anything. Little did I know, without Father's ether, I began to decay... Here I was, a young man - practically a child! - walking the world as he literally fell to pieces. I used to look human, but now that's long gone. Even now, I grow sickly... for all I know, my heart may just give up on me tomorrow. So thus, I wandered. I walked the world, alone, for hundreds of years. I tried to help people, but I usually was just greeted by pitchforks and torches.

He... he is the only person I have left on this Olegaia, Nerwen. And... And if he's dead..."

My entire body is shaking at this point - I felt ill. I clutch my thrumming heart as tears silently fall out of my hood...

[Chromeknight]

Nerwen answered slowly. Unsure of how to speak. Sorrow appeared more than ever to be a lost child.

I remember you spoke of the animutilav and your father after we returned from Miranda.

I believe the monotheist that wears a man's face was there also. Do you remember? The one that spoke of being old enough to remember the original veterans? You are right, the time that you speak of is before I was, I am yet young for an elf. But my people's memory stretches back beyond then, from them I have studied the histories of those times. I have even myself visited the places from which you hail, though they are now different.

Nerwen paused, gathering her thoughts.

Time changes everything. You know that better than anyone here I believe. And four centuries is a long time to be estranged from someone. But this I know, some things do endure. The White Towers stand. The Primovian palm tree still fruits. The waves still lap Uland as they have done for countless centuries. As changed as this city is, indeed, even in the few years I have been here, the rocks on which it stands still beat a steady rhythm of pulsing magma deep below. And what of your father? Does he endure also? Is he changed by time or has he transcended? Do such questions even have answers?

Death is pervasive, the one change that cannot be avoided. But it is not the end, you are testimony to that. And even if it were not so and there is nothing more than nothing beyond, still, we are not dead as long as others speak our name.

Say his name, Sorrow. Let the world ring with it's sound again. You will have your answer then by listening to the echo of it.

Edited April 19, 2013 by Chromeknight

[Endgame]

"I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad.... but I remember his name more then my own. Perhaps Sorrow is truly the name I was meant to bear... but no matter."

I draw a sharp breath, and prepare to say it... the tears continue to stream down.

"Lucian. Lucian. His name was - is, I hope - Lucian."

I sit silently for a few moments, praying to Helvetia almighty that he'll respond.

"Lucian is a word, Nerwen. Just... just not his. Not his words."

[Scorpiox]

Nerwen nods at Haldor's words.

You look like you could use a drink. Never fear, I am sure your novice won't eat you. That generally happens on the third date. But do not be fooled, though you might not think it a date, her opinion on it may well be different.

Nerwen gets up to go fetch drinks from the bar, whilst her keen hearing tracks Nyx's conversation with Lord Lawrence. As she goes she nearly runs into the pacing rogue, Sorrow.

Haldor laughs.

"Too bloody right, I could always use a drink. Hmm, we'll have to see how this trip turns out, might end up that I've bit off more than I can chew."

[Costy]

I walk into the hall and trade Death's Whip to Alexis in exchange for 200 gold.

[Masked Builder]

Alexis hands Nagure the 200 gold in exchange for the whip. And nods her head in acknowledgement.

[Chromeknight]

Lucian Nerwen repeated.

Lucian. And what do you hear when you say it? Stretch out with your feelings.

Sorrow listened spoke again.

What do you mean, not his words? Is your mind clouded by hearing his voice recite the incantation?

[Endgame]

"Nerwen... I can say his name, I can cherish my every memory of Father all I like. But it is just that: a memory, a figment. Just as dead as I, and even more nonexistant. I say Lucian's name, and I remember good times, bad times, by his side. But if that is all I have Nerwen, at what point does it go from talking to a figment to simply talking to yourself? I know Time's cruelities more then anyone else - it ravages everything. Not even memories are spared from its wrath. At what juncture will Lucian will become just an imperfect copy, a palee reflection of the great man he was - is?"

I bury my head in my hands.

"I... I just want to hear from him again, Nerwen. Surely, you understand?"

Edited April 20, 2013 by Endgame

[Costy]

I sign up for Quest 65 and 66.

[Chromeknight]

The words pierce Nerwen, reminding her again of her own father, fallen beneath the blades of Belril's undead slaves.

I do understand, have no doubt.

What I had forgotten was that you were human, for all that you have lived so long. Your memory is not like the elves. I can recall everything, clearly, like returning again to that time. Sometimes it takes effort and meditation, other memories are with me every day.

Nerwen takes a large drink before continuing. Obviously some of those memories are less pleasant for her.

If your memories fail, look to other things. Look to what he has written, created, changed. In those things people live even after they have left this world.

[posades]

Xander hurries into the hall, heading straight to the Message Board.

Writing his name under Quest #65, Xander wondered if there would be a moment to reflect on the time that had passed battling in the Fields. He sat in a corner, taking out a piece of paper and pencil, and proceeded to write the following notice:

"Medal of Glory and 3 Level-Up Mushrooms for sale. Interested parties, please message me privately with inquiries; serious offers only, please.

-Xander"

Posting the note in an uncluttered section of the board, he headed outside and settled in a grassy alcove near a tranquil stream; closing his eyes, he began to rest -- if only for a moment.

[Flare]

Benji wanders into the hall. He briefly looks at the quest list before climbing up the stairs to get a drink. Deep in thought, he sits down at the bar, speaking to no one.

[Brickdoctor]

After another successful trip to the Farmer Donauld's fields, I return to the Hall, sitting at an empty table.

Spotting Arthur, I approach the Sorcerer.

"Ah, Master Regulus. I've got a completely in-character gut feeling that you have a scroll I would be interested in worth the amount of Gold which I lent to you."

I trade Arthur 1 Gold* for a Scroll of Frailty.

OoC: *Loans will now read as, "1 Gold loaned to Lord Lawrence Boomingham (Zepher)", because Zeph likes to have Boomingham owe money to lots of different heroes.

[Flipz]

After another successful trip to the Farmer Donauld's fields, I return to the Hall, sitting at an empty table.

Spotting Arthur, I approach the Sorcerer.

"Ah, Master Regulus. I've got a completely in-character gut feeling that you have a scroll I would be interested in worth the amount of Gold which I lent to you."

I trade Arthur 1 Gold* for a Scroll of Frailty.

OoC: *Loans will now read as, "1 Gold loaned to Lord Lawrence Boomingham (Zepher)", because Zeph likes to have Boomingham owe money to lots of different heroes.

A shadow detatches itself from the wall. To the Warden's surprise, it is not, in fact, Arthur, though the being that reveals itself seems posessed of the same aura of melancholy the Sorcerer had so recently shown.

"Apologies, Master Docken, it appears that Master Regulus is...somewhat indisposed at the moment. Fortunately, I possess what you require, and though he does not know it, I am, in fact, empowered to complete his business for him." The man passes over one of Arthur's Scrolls of Frailty, and accepts the gold coin. "I will ensure this makes it to its proper owner. You are...a Hero of a unique sort, Master Docken. You and Master Regulus will make a fine team...when the time is right." The figure nods and exits the Hall.

---------------------------------------------------

On his way through the seedier parts of the city, hood raised and eyes alert, the man spots another shadowy figure. A smile of recognition crossed his face, though it could not be glimpsed through the inky blackness of the shadows beneath his cloak. Perfect, he thought.

"It seems an opportunity has arisen for you, miss. May I offer you 170 Gold for that blade of yours?" He offers a small sack of gold. He knew Arthur would not miss it--not in his present condition. "Sound fair?"

[Flare]

Benji returns to the hall with a new hat, and presumably a lot of other new or improved stuff. Before quietly going to sit down at an empty table, he puts up a sign advertising a couple of things for sale.

FOR SALE:

Pointy Hat (+2 maximum ether). 60 gold, or best offer.

Quiver of Poisoning (permanent Poisoned effect). 150 gold, or best offer.

Also interested in trades for either items.

~Benji

Edited April 20, 2013 by Flare

[Waterbrick Down]

A greasy looking cyclops enters the hall. Glancing at the participants for Quest 65 his eyebrows raising at some of the names, he crosses out heroes until only 4 remain and then exits the hall.

"Yes, I think these will do..."

Quest 65 Chosen Heroes:

Dyric Rone, Level 20 1/3 Assassin (The Legonator) *Party Leader*

Nerwen Calmcacil, Level 18 1/2 Shaman (Chromeknight)

Cronk, Level 30 Paladin (CorneliusMurdock)

Xander Unth'or, Level 25 2/3 Hunter (posades)

QM Note: Go ahead and get any shopping done you need to, quest topic will be up in under 12 hours.

Edited April 20, 2013 by Waterbrick Down

[Endgame]

"...Thank you, Nerwen. Stay safe out there, alright?"

And with that, I enter silent contemplation... praying to Helvetia that Lucian would live on.

[Chromeknight]

Thank you for your kind words Sorrow. I am sure I will be safe behind Cronk's shiny shield and beside Xander's mighty bow.

I will pray to Helvetia on your behalf that you would hear from your father again. Though she might not answer my prayers.

As I said before, when we spoke after Miranda, if your father lives he is no longer human. So you ought prepare yourself that you might not hear from him regardless of whether he yet lives. Think on what you will do then. We will speak when I return.

Nerwen returned briefly to the table.

I will speak to you all later. Lord Boomingham, take care of Nyx and listen to Barty. Watch over Alexis as well.

Ladies. Hearts mend with new friends. A trite saying, but true none the less. Stand by one another.

And Haldor, do not bite the novice, even if she asks you to. Be a gentleman.

With a smile and a wave Nerwen left to do her shopping.

Edited April 20, 2013 by Chromeknight

[Masked Builder]

Alexis bids farewell to Nerwen. Wishing that she was leaving. Alexis needed something to take her mind off of what she wanted to do with herself.

[Shoker86]

Suddenly Arnulf felt alone in the hall, his friends went on their quests, he hoped that he would go soon. He didn't want another drunken night in the inn. e wanted action to sharpen his senses and to clear his thoughts.

[Flare]

Benji glances at Alexis. He had not noticed her when he had returned to the hall. He had known her for a while - they were cousins, after all, but their relationship had faded away, and he wasn't sure if she would still remember him. He noted to himself that she looked different. More mature. But glancing again, maybe not so much. Still, something had changed in her. Something was wrong.

Benji starts to get up to talk to her, but instead remains in his seat. He needed to think about it, along with the many other things that had been putting off thinking about for a long time... yes, he needed time to think.

Edited April 20, 2013 by Flare