Heroica RPG - Training Room

[UsernameMDM]

Hoke enters the Training Room with Torc to update his skills as a Dragoon and soon to be mount.

"I need to update my training. It looks like we may be able to do a bit more than we could last time we were in here."

[Flipz]

As Arthur returns from Ziegfried Manor, he finds himself face-to-face with a somewhat familiar Veteran.

"Regulus!" the Dragonlord calls, looking none too pleased. Arthur has no choice but to come closer to the commanding Dragoon, who crosses his arms in consternation. "Where is your Dragon?"

Arthur starts and nearly looks away, but a sudden though crosses his mind, prompting him to stare down his superior.

"She left me," he says simply.

The Dragonlord seems skeptical.

"Left you? You may not have a lot of experience with Dragons, Mr. Regulus, but even you should know that at this stage she is barely a hatchling, unable to fully care for herself. Surely you aren't suggesting she set off to survive entirely on her own?"

The Weather Mage, as he had as a Dragoon, stands his ground.

"That's exactly what happened. I believe her exact words were, 'this is boring. And I have no desire to be bored.'"

The Veteran pauses a moment.

"You're...joking, right?" Arthur shakes his head, prompting the Veteran to massage his helmeted head. "I can't decide what's more insane--that she would decide to leave you, or that you would let her."

This time, Arthur's guilt wins out over his stubbornness, the Weather Mage looking uncomfortably away.

"Well--things between us...haven't been the best, lately. I even ended up retraining in magic, since I couldn't trust her in battle."

"Couldn't trust...did you not even consider that trust goes both ways?"

"I'm sorry, Dragonlord, that part didn't seem to be included in her trainer's manual," Arthur says pointedly. "You give me a living, breathing being, one with a personality as willful as my own, and expect things to go smoothly from day one?"

The Dragonlord appears to want to respond with a biting criticism, but the Veteran holds himself back.

"What we do or don't expect of you is irrelevant. Right now, you need to find her, and--"

The Hero and Veteran's discussion was interrupted by the arrival of a third figure--Valentine Ziegfried.

"Hello, Arthur. Dragonlord."

"Ma'am...?"

Arthur blinks in surprise.

"Mom?"

Before the woman can reply, a pair of golden leathern wings unfurl themselves from behind her back, a scaly reptilian form scaling her shoulder. Valentine smiles as Arthur's eyes widen at the sight of his Dragon companion.

"Miirym!"

"I thought you might want to see her once you were finished helping your cousin. How is Lilly, by the way?"

"Er--fine," he says, deciding not to bring up the girl's stated intentions toward his half-brother. "Just had to deal with a bit of...family heritage." Which I don't feel like discussing openly in front of a Veteran, he adds mentally.

Whether in comprehension or in concealment of a lack thereof, both Valentine and the Dragonlord nod. Valentine gently transfers Miirym to her arm, the gilded reptile surprisingly complying with the unspoken request.

"That's...interesting to hear. I know it's late, but perhaps you'd be willing to discuss it more at home?"

Arthur smiles with relief.

"Of course, Mother."

"Good. We'll both see you there, then."

Hefting the still-silent Miirym, Valentine turns and heads back the way she came. The Dragonlord seems relieved, if a little confused. As Arthur starts toward Heron Street, the Veteran stops him with a hand to the chest.

"I'm not sure just what happened, Regulus, but I don't think I like it. That Dragon needs you, whether or not the two of you think she does. You need to take better care of her."

"I'm not a fool, Dragonlord. I just ran short on options--it was either chase her down, or complete my Quest for my cousin. I chose the latter."

"If you'd stayed a Dragoon there wouldn't have been a choice to make."

"Maybe. But I can think of a better way to avoid that conflict of interest in the future." Arthur takes a breath, mentally preparing himself for what was about to come. "I quit."

The Dragonlord freezes, then visibly relaxes.

"I--hm. That's one way to handle it. You're sure about that?"

Arthur nods.

"Positive."

The Dragonlord smirks despite himself.

"Ironic. Suddenly I'm a lot more reassured about letting you out into the field with your Dragon...except that that won't be happening anymore, will it?"

"No. Those days are over, now. I mean, I need to go back to the Hall at some point--I've still got some debts to settle with my former comrades--but after that I'm gone, I promise."

The Dragonlord waves a hand dismissively at the Weather Mage.

"It's fine, we're not like that. Take your time, settle your scores, give your friends a proper farewell. My primary concern was with Miirym--but I'm starting to see that she's yours as well."

"She is. Like I told Lilly, family comes first," Arthur confirms for him.

"Well, then, don't let me stand in your way. I believe your mother and Miirym are waiting for you?"

Arthur nods, and with one last look down the road towards the familiar lights Heroica Hall, Arthur heads home--to his new, true home, Number 14 Heron Street.

[Asphalt]

Progression from Cleric to Witch.

Vindsval returns to the Hall of Heroes with the desert dust still clinging to his robes. He feels as if he is at a crossroads and that a decision must be made. He gathers his meager collection of belonging and goes to the Training Hall for contemplation and guidance. He is greeted by Master Copper Fox, the most sociable of the six veteran founders of Heroica.

"Greetings large one. Welcome to the Training Room. It would seem you believe yourself to be well travelled enough to claim a place among those of a different specialization."

"Greetings to you as well, I am Vindsval, called the Half-Born. I have indeed come here for instruction for I have reached a crossroads. I am of heavy heart and divided mind on the matter. I am told you have places in which a being can seek solitude and quiet contemplation."

With this the veteran leads Vindsval to a side room, dimly lit by candle and fading sunlight. He closes the large door silently behind the half-giant. Vindsval moves to the center of the room and seats himself on the floor. His remaining hand reaches to his shoulder, now a smooth healed stump.

Wanderer, you have led me down this path, you have brought me to this crossroads, but I know not in which direction I should proceed. I was to be a champion for the weak. A heavy hand to protect those who could not protect themselves. I have always intended to raise sword and shield in your name to destroy those who would pray on the weak.

He slams his massive fist into the floor in a sudden fit of anger.

But you lead me to the door of the foul one who would poison this city, and the price of stopping him was my arm. I will never hold the protective shield of the Paladin, never wield the two handed sword of power.

"Stop your mewling boy."

Vindsval turns his head sharply to the sound of the second voice. a ferocious snarl on his lips directed at whomever would interrupt his reflection. The rage fades from his face when he looks up to see a vision of fog and mountains before him in the room.

He quickly lowers his eyes and rises to a knee before his God. The High Lord of the Norse Pantheon, The Wander Wartan.

Forgive me great lord.

ASK ME NOT for forgiveness, I would not see such pathetic weakness in one I have chosen to show favor. I thought I had tempered you better than this. To find you whining at the loss of an arm. A true warrior uses the strength he has been shown and the strength he has taken to stride the path he wishes to take. He is not forced by circumstance into a side path. You say that your destiny was to become one of the pathetic paladins of this soft souther city. Paah, that is no path for one such as you. Think on what I have shown you. Think on the power you have glimpsed. Then look inward and make your decision."

As he speaks his final words the god steps back from the cleric and is enveloped by the fog. He fades from existence and Vindsval is once again alone in the room. But now arrayed before him are several objects he has obtained in his travels.

The Hood of the Demon Disease that took his arm.

The pile of fangs and stingers he collected on his quests.

The Talisman and Gloves used to enhance poison and healing

and finally the doubled ended blades of the Nin-Jah-Go warriors.

He gazes at the items, and a smile splits his large face. It would seem that the shadowed path has been made plain.

He gathers the items into his pouches and picks up the twin Sai. Then he opens the door and goes to speak to Copper Fox.

Have you made a decision then? What shall you become Hal-Born? Would you become the Wise, One with Nature, a Protector of the weak?

Vindsval looks down at the man and shakes his head.

Teach me to use this.

He holds out the Double Sai, no larger than a dagger in his massive hand.

A weapon of theives, then you would become a follower of the Witchery Way?

Vindsval nods.

There is much strength to be found in the mastery of poison. I have felt the power that disease and venom contain. I would master them, bend them to my will. One that can kill with such things can also learn to protect others from their effects. Teach me the way of poisons and curses so that I may bend them to MY will, and use them how I SEE FIT.

Then let us begin.

So the Half-Giant began his training in the mastery of poisons, curses and the weapons of speed and craftiness. He refashioned he armor, attaching the tokens of power he collected. He used the craft of the Runeskald to etch letters of power and protection into its fabric. At the end of his training he donned his new armor, placed Verkenner at his belt and looked to Copper Fox.

Aren't you forgetting something?

The man holds out what appears to be a black fabric funnel.

You have a broom, now you need the hat. How else will they know that a witch has arrived.

I will leave that thing with you.

He looks around the room and spies bundle of black fabric on a nearby table.

If I must wear black to identify myself I will at least wear something with dignity.

He sweeps the fabric over his missing arm and fastens it with a length of chain.

I thank you for your instruction Master Fox. Perhaps if I stay long enough within the Hall, I will have need of it again.

You are indeed welcome Vindsval, I shall eagerly await news of your exploits.

Vindsval Leaves the Training Room, a mere cleric no longer.

37 year old, Male, Half Giant,

Level: 21 Witch *Gains Triple XP* *Immune to Fire, Asleep, Blinded, Confused, Fragile, Weakened, and Sealed Effects* Attacks are Poisonous

Power: 31 (21+10)(X2 against Humanoid and Holy/Luminous)

Defense: 3

Health: 37/37 (9+20+8)

Ether: 30/30 (5+20+5)

Edited May 3, 2015 by Asphalt

[Endgame]

Life in an apartment - not camping outside, as I did for many years - had proven... different. Quaint at best. Mind-numbingly boring at worst, which was often. In a rare spurt of mundane desire, I decided it was time to do some cleaning.

As I was tossing out things, I unearth some possessions I had not seen in a long, long time. Although the statement that I lived only with the things on my back could be considered true, I did have a single crate of possessions in storage ever since I came to Eubric. I had not yet dared opening it. I convinced myself it was because I had no need for what was inside, but there was a reluctance about what I might find in the crate. There was some things I wished not to dwell on, and pulling them out of an old box would accomplish the opposite. Despite my better judgment, I throw open the lid to the old chest, and start rummaging inside.

Much of it was, admittedly, rubbish. Things I had attachment to were now simply things to wither smile or groan at before throwing them away. Pleasant memories, some, awkward memories the rest. I was unsure what I was fearing, until I got to the bottom-most items.

They were just old clothes. Very old, some old enough to belong in museum. The clothes from when I spent my lovelife in Draida Bay were there. I silently fold them and tuck them away, hoping that they'd help jog my Sarah's face. Trying to form that mental picture, I come across a different set of clothes - they were a pearly white, a stark contrast to my dark garbs. There was name sewn into the inside of the collar: "Vitus."

A gift from my father when I left home for the first time. He assumed that I would become a necromancer. So far, he had been wrong, but... The Ziegfrieds had thus far been favorable towards me. Was it too late...?

I pour myself a drink and sit down. Honor my father, contact Sarah, Kayla... Tempting. But dangerous. My memory was fading, and I knew it. Even a year previous was a blur now. Maybe that would repair my memory, being able to go back to old times... Or maybe it'd spell doom for me.

"Let these be my last words to you, old friend: Do it."

"...Last words? "

My conscience finally at peace, after a cruel four centuries, I head to the training hall.

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

The Copper Fox and I stand in a small garden behind the Hall.

"Hands close to the top of the hilt now, stand up straight, focus on your- You're following instructions before I give them." the Veteran notes. "I don't suppose you'd had practice."

I grip the scythe tighter.

"One could say that." I try my hardest to recall my father - what he did, what he said. There was ether in my veins, or at least traces of it. Being around the Ziegfrieds must have given me some sort of clue, some sort of latent insight, to the ways of ether. My father was a master... Shoulders relax, eyes focused, back straight.

I was starting to be able to see it. I visualized what was happening, the odd pulsating I could feel in my heart. It was a weak - no, pathetic - organ now, but something rejuvenated it. Something else, something new - or perhaps just forgotten - was coursing through my veins now. I could recall the sensation. I was small then, burnt... Just barely pulled out of the ashes of my old home, my tiny life expired. And the father came along. With a single spell, I could feel the ether pulse through me, give me new life, give me new power -

Power.

A bolt of darkness leaps up from my scythe, blasting a target. I wave it like a conductor's baton, the things that had died nearby rejuvenated. Plants came back, a chilling beautiful white. Direwolves which had gotten too close to the hall crawled up from the dirt, at my heed. Birds took flight once more, their skeletal wings flapping. Fireflies, their extinguished flames re-lit, buzz around, now glowing a chilling blue. I lower my scythe, allowing the creatures to return to their rightful slumber.

"You can consider yourself a Necromancer now."

"...Thank you."

I nod and solemnly walk away. I did not plan to disturb his slumber, but now my father could look down and see his son - despite nearing the grave himself - ad made peace with the world.

I change into the white garbs, ready to begin life as a hero anew, no matter how short it may be.

Sorrow(Endgame)

428 years old undead Necromancer

Level 30 *Immune to Light and Blinded*

Power: 65 (30+2+33)

Defense: 1

Health: 41/41 (7+29+5)

Gold: 2257

Equipment: Sticky Gloves (Increases the amount of gold stolen by 50% (rounded up), suitable for rogues and beast warriors; handwear),

Inventory: Reaper’s Scythe (WP:33, damages only humanoids; suitable to assassins only; scythe), Shark Jaw Scythe (WP 15/30 vs. aquatic monsters; scythe), Longsword (WP: 5), Dark Cloak (SP:1, Max Health +1, Power +1, suitable for rogues and barbarians; backwear), Archer's Hat (Power +1, suitable for rangers; headwear), Disguise Kit (Allows the user to disguise them self as the opposite gender; accessory), Helmet (Max. Health +1, headwear), 2x Greaves (SP:2, immunity to slowed and hastened; footwear), Death Mask (Increases assassination chances to 1/3 when the target’s health is lowered to 1/3; suitable to assassins; headwear), Ruby (Fire), 2 Grand Potions, 2 Health Cores, 2 Tonics, 2 Ether Cores, 5 Remedies, Neutralizer, Phoenix Essence, 4 Meads, Smelling Salts, Nostrum, Ambrosia, 2 Venoms, Bedroll, Silver Ore (Worth 60 gold), Sunset Shimmer (quest item)

[Kintobor]

Annienal entered the training room, looking for someone to train her. As she looked around she soon confronted by a new face.

"Can't say I've seen you in here before. What brings you here?"

"Well, I, um..." Annienal took a deep breath, thinking her words over. "I want to be able cast magic. In particular, I want to be able to use these." Annienal shows the redheaded man her gemstones. He looked her over inquisitively.

"Well, do you know if anyone in your family were ether users? If not, this may be rather hard." Annienal nodded in disapproval. The man frowned, looking optimistic at best. "Well... let's see what I can do."

It took Annienal hours before she's able to even to make a small breeze with her Sapphire. The Copper Fox crossed his arms as the night wore on.

"You're going to need to practice and meditate if you want to be able to cast magic. It may take a few weeks, but don't worry too much, you'll get it eventually. For some people it takes time." The Copper Fox sympathetically patted Annienal as she made her way out of the training room. She knew what she wanted to do, what she wanted to become, but her lack of immediate success was disheartening. Annienal made her way back to her small room at the inn.

---

Annienal sat in her inn room, looking over her new mask. It was surprisingly heavy for its size. Lifting it up, she placed it over her head, her breathing becoming amplified within. She could hear a low rumble, but not the roar of the elder dragon as she was promised.

"Are... are you... are you there? I want... I want to speak with you, Lethauros." Annienal could feel herself beginning to shake with nervous anticipation. She closed her eyes and waits for a response. She breathed heavily, hoping for some sort of guidance. Annienal felt like she sat there for ages, waiting for some sort of a response...

---

The next day Annienal returns, dressed in a much more drastic suit of armour.

"I took your advice, sir, and I meditated. I'm ready to try again." Annienal stated, sounding surprisingly confident with herself. The Copper Fox readied some targets for her as she began to move the various elements around. She could feel the ether flowing through her body as she shifted around the water in a bowl around her person before shooting it at a target.

"Can I, um, have a ruby, please?" The Copper Fox handed her one, and raising it to her mouth she blasted a cone of fire at a target, effectively turning her breath into fire.

"Well, Annienal, I can safely say you somehow managed to become effective with the elements overnight. Congratulations, your a Mystic Knight." Annienal shook the Copper Fox's hand and bowed to him before she departed, ecstatic about her newly found ethereal abilities.

Annienal Anavir (Kintobor)

"19" year old elven female Mystic Knight *Bonaparte Reputation*

Level 15

Power: 33 (15+18)

Defense: 7 (2+5)

Health: 31/31 (14+10+7+1)

Ether: 19/19 (15+4)

Equipment: Bonaparte Cutlass (WP:9, doubled if the user has reputation among the Bonapartes; longsword), Plain Shield (SP: 5), Pauldrons (SP: 2, suitable for knights, dragoons, and skirmishers; accessory), Locustoid Greaves (Max Ether +4, immune to Earth, suitable to ether users)

[The Chosen Minifigure]

Warlen crosses town, over to the Ji-Pei's headquarters. After much talking and getting lost, he managed to claim a favour. Walking into a lab, he looked at the Aoi scientists inside, and began talking.

***

Several hours later, Warlen emerged with a much less bulky Sword-Cannon. His favour hadn't extended to Lind's shield, but the sword looked much more streamlined. Strapping it to his side, he thanked the Scientists and exited the building.

***

After a good nights rest in the Hall, Warlen awoke early so as to make it to the training hall.

Walking in, he marvelled at all the equipment.

"Looking for something?"

Warlen turned, seeing the Veteran approaching him.

"Are you the Golden Dingo?"

Copper Fox looked at him.

"Copper Fox's the name. I'm the one who'll be training you."

"Ok, Wolf. Show me how to summon giant elemental creatures of power and fury. Actually, hilarity is better than fury. Power and hilarity, please."

"..."

***

Hour later, Warlen was looking frustrated.

"Tell it to me straight, Dog. Why can't I summon monsters of Power and Hilarity?"

"Well, I can't be sure-"

"Yes you can. I can tell you're being modest. Don't."

"Fine. It seems that the darkness that's corrupting your soul is... prohibiting your connection to nature."

"Meaning?"

"You literally can't summon elemental creatures."

Warlen looked dismayed.

"Well, what else can I do? I'd kind of like to be a Sage, but then I couldn't use this shield!"

"Well, aside from the fact that the darkness will probably block the holy magic, Evokers can't use shields either. And I can't see you becoming a Battle Mage, and being a sorcerer would probably make the darkness worse. Show me that shield of yours."

Warlen handed the shield to him.

"Eulalia, eh?"

"Who?"

"You know, the God of Mysticism and the forest. Symbol's an eagle."

"What're you hinting at?"

"Well, a shield with a symbol for the God of Mysticism... How about a Mystic Knight?"

"Hmmm... well, I've got a sword and a shield. Why not?"

"Well then. Shave off that stubble, soldier. No slouches in the court of Eulalia."

***

Hours later, a powerful knight strode out of the Training Hall, conversing with a Veteran.

"...and remember, Melimane. Humour is good, but you need to temper it with discipline."

"Yes sir!"

"Good luck, elf."

Warlen Melimane, Eulalia's Knight (The Chosen Minifigure) *Immune to Darkness, Fire, Ether Reduction* Physical attacks pierce SP!

23 year old male half-elf Mystic Knight

Level 16.33

Power: 27 (16+8+3).

Health: 37/30(5+16+1+3+5+7*)

SP: 10 (3+3+4)

Ether: 35/35 (5+15+4+3+5+1)

Gold: 251

Equipment: Sean Cole's Sword-Cannon (Can be used as a longsword or handcannon, WP: 8 - defies SP in sword mode, deals Bleeding 1 in cannon mode), Eagle Shield (SP: 4, prevents ether reduction), Fenarian Robes of the Vampire (SP:3, Max. Ether +4, Immune to Darkness, backwear), Anniversary Medal (SP+3, Power+3, Ether+3, Health+3, immune to Fire, accessory, belongs to Lind).

Edited June 12, 2015 by The Chosen Minifigure

[KotZ]

Kiray makes her way into the training room after all others had left. She hoped the Copper Fox was still there. Why wouldn't he? He was the Veteran responsible for this afterall. She looks around the large room. She finally had made it into the training room after all her hard work on quests she had gone on.

"Welcome, Miss Knight," Copper Fox states as he comes in from a side room. "No need to say, I know what you're here for."

"Is it bad I'm torn on which way to go?" the knight asks him.

"Not necessarily. We all have difficult choices to make in life. This choice will help lead you to success, no matter which way you go. Success may turn out differently depending on what you do, and outcomes may not be what you expect, but go forward." He ushers her into a small room. "Think on it. I will check on you in an hour."

Kiray sat down on the floor. She removed her armor and everything she had on her. Now she only had her street clothes, the ones she wore when she first came to Eubric many seasons ago. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes tight.

What seemed to have been hours went by, yet the Copper Fox did not come. Kiray did not stand, for she feared to leave and mess up. So she waited more.

Finally she heard a noise. A voice specifically. She could not tell who it was. It was muffled and faint. Distant. Was it the Copper Fox finally? An eager Hero waiting to go in this room after her? She strained to hear; she had to hear what the voice was saying.

"You've come far, daughter," the voice said, most of the words finally able to be understood now.

Kiray opened her eyes. She looked around the darkness. There was no source of the voice, and it seemed to echo from everywhere. "You're not my mother."

"True, but I'm the voice of her spirit. The hand that has guided you."

"I have not heard your voice since you died, mother, if you are her."

"I have not needed to talk to you for me to have a hand in your life. I raised you, away from your father, close to good friends to look after you and love you."

Kiray felt a tear roll down her cheek. "I miss you."

"We'll see each other again. But first you must serve."

"Ennoc? Another god?"

"Try serving your family first. Find the strength to do what you need to do to succeed."

Kiray swallowed hard again before nodding. "Goodbye, mother."

The spirit did not say anything, yet Kiray felt as if someone left a loving kiss on her cheek. She stood up and reequipped herself and stepped out of the room.

"Ah, Kiray, I was just about to fetch you."

"Was I seriously in there an hour?"

The veteran nodded.

"Teach me how to be a black knight," Kiray continued. "There are things that need to be done."

So the Copper Fox began Kiray's training regimen. She worked and trained until she had a grasp on the new class.

"Good. I believe you're ready."

"I am?"

"I know what I'm talking about, Kiray. You are ready. I only advise, be careful. A Black Knight is a powerful calling. If you wish to truly serve Heroica, you must keep darker desires in check. A black knight may not be the most noble profession in the eyes of some, so be careful to not give them cause to despise you."

Kiray nodded and thanked the Veteran before going to the hall.

Kiray Nastayo (KingoftheZempk),

A Hero Who Is Actually Worth Something *Immune to Blinded, Doomed, Blessed, Light, Darkness* *Deals double damage to Holy and Demonic Foes*

24 year old female human

Level

16 Black Knight

Power Bonus:

6

Defense:

29

Health:

33/33

Gold:

242

Equipment:

Smith’s Katana (WP:10,

Darkness

elemental), Never Blessed Helmet (SP: 8, Immunity to Blinded, Doomed and Blessed, Wearer deals double damage to Holy Enemies, suitable to Knights, Barbarians, Regulators, and Skirmishers), Never Blessed Armor (SP: 10, Immune to Darkness, Light, and Blessed, Wearer deals double damage to Demons, suitable to Knights, Barbarians, Regulators, and Skirmishers), Orcish Barbed Shield (SP: 11),

Inventory:

- x3 Potion, Banana (Restores full health when eaten), Nostrum, Ambrosia, Mead, Smelling Salts, Mediocre Pongcanis Brew (Encouraged + Enraged), Smoke Bomb, x2 Bones, Soma, Ambrosia, Mead

- Bedroll, Everlasting Venom (Adds the poisoned by 10-effect to one weapon permanently), Dragon Scale, x3 Fire Bomb, x4 Venom, Sharp Tip (-2 bleeding)

-Flameproof Armor (SP:1, no longer flameproof; bodywear, suitable for anyone),

Sanctified Rito Longsword (WP:6, doubled against Flying enemies; longsword), Snug Armor (SP: 5, Cannot be De-Equipped, Suitable to all classes that use shields, body wear), Two Fanged Orcish Shield (SP: 7, Immune to Darkness, Shield Bash Replaces Meditate), Fishy Scale Mail (SP: 6, wearer absorbs water-elemental damage as health, immune to Fire; suitable for knights, dragoons, skirmishers, and regulators, body wear),Sword of Fire and Light (WP: 7, Fire-Light Elemental, Greatsword)

New picture for Kiray should be up soon. Hopefully.

[Lind Whisperer]

A hooded figure walked into the Training Room.

"Oh, great, you again."

"And a very good morning to you too, sir."

"So, I'm assuming you're going Dragoon?"

"No, I don't have enough reputation yet, and Black Knight's a pretty good deal."

"...Then why are you here?"

"I'd like to have my profession re-listed as Assassin."

"I can see that, somewhat."

"And then probably I'll train back as soon as I'm better geared."

"..."

"..."

"We really need to put something in the rule book about that."

"Probably a good idea, yeah."

"So...training?"

A nearby vase shatters, and a single paper card floats down, coming lightly to rest on top of the shards.

"Those things do cost money..."

Lind Whisperer is now an Assassin.

[Duvors]

Throlar had calmed down. And quite frankly he ought not have lost his temper in the first place, but the little... he didn't let himself think about that. Instead he made himself think of his past, it was a mistake. As soon as he began contemplating his past he felt himself weighed down by his own foolishness, by mistakes new and old.

He thought of R'kilf, and how his stupidity had almost caused the quest to fail, and of Lord Belanith and the vow he made to redeem himself.

He thought of the Eubric Cemetery, and of the necromancer Amber Makepeace and her shadow, and their insane plan to turn Eubric into a necropolis, and how he might be meeting them again soon.

He thought of Babeleth, of the mutants and his pity for the deluded beings, of the woman who had been killed for a cause she had nothing to do with, of his companions treachery, and of his failure. That one left scars, literal ones. He could feel the one from where Orokai had nearly split him in half.

He thought of The Caustic Collection, of the strange and dark events that surrounded it, and of the inexplicable death of Rollinger, and the nightmares. Nightmares that could still haunt him in a way, though he hadn't had any since the quest ended.

He thought of his last quest, of Lethauros, of the mad druid Salvato, and of his companion, Sylph. A polar opposite to the mad druid in every way, and of his rapport with animals.

He thought of the people he had known, and those that had died needlessly.

He entered the Training Room, and the Copper Fox was there as if waiting for him.

"Greetings Throlar."

"How do you know my name?"

"I'm one of the Veterans that chose you as one of the heroes for the quest for Babeleth, remember?" he said "I know it's painful for you to hear it said like that, but we must all face our pasts, otherwise we will be unable to choose our futures wisely."

"I thought about that on the way here."

"Then you know what you wish be?"

"Yes."

He drew in his breath.

"I wish to become a warden.

Throlar Wineghilm.

137 year old Dwarven Warden. *Immune to weakened* *Avoids free hits from Flying enemies* *Immune to Ice and Darkness*

Level, 15

Power, 26 (15+10+1). 36 against ancient enemies.

Defense, 6 (5+1).

Health, 37/37 (32+5).

Gold, 30.

Equipped;Miracle Lance (A white spear crafted in the likeness of an ancient dragon. WP; 10, doubled against Ancient enemies), Elven Shield (SP; 5, Ice and Darknesselemental. All elves in the party gain the same amount of SP as long as the wielder is standing), Lion's Plate (Max health +5, Power +1, Immune to weakened, suitable for knights and barbarians, body wear), Crow Helmet (SP; 1, Flying enemies do not deal free hits to the wearer, suitable for Knights and Dragoons, headwear).

Inventory;

Weapons; Elven Sword (WP; 5, longsword), Mopagsaber (WP; 12, Ice elemental longsword), Darker Etherial Deck (WP; 7, throwing weapon. Belongs to Lind Whisperer).

Shields; None.

Artifacts; Counterstrike Gloves (If the wearer is damaged by a free hit, they counter with strength equal to their level, handwear), Lethauros Crushers (While equipped, the wearer does double damage to Rock and Flying type enemies. Suitable for anyone, footwear).

Consumables; x2 Potion, Remedy, Phoenix Essence, Soma (Causes the Blessed effect), Hint Coin (Gives the user a hint about a puzzle or a tricky situation, Useable only once, Has no monetary value.), Bone, Floral Bomb, Air Bomb, Dirt Bomb, Water Bomb, Lightning Bomb, x4 Fire Bomb, Ice Bomb, Holy Bomb, Smoke Bomb x2, Feather of Flight (allows the user to flee the battle when used).

Equipment; Bedroll, Shovel, Pickaxe, Magnifying Glass.

Treasures; Viper scale (worth 40 gold to some NPC's).

Decamon Deck, Magic Carp (Aquatic 1), Volt Ant (Electric 1), Will-o'-the-Wisp (Fiery 1), Tweetybird (Flying 1), Toxic Toad (Plant 1), Ursa Minor (Eithereal 1), Specter (Dark 2).

[Quarryman]

For what felt like the umpteenth time Namyrra sought out the Copper Fox in the training room. "I've decided I don't want to be an archmage, too many boring restrictions, I'll rather go back to being a Necromancer."

Namyrra Uq (Quarryman) 1337 years old female Fenarian Necromancer

Level 49.4 *Immune to Sealed, Slowed and Bound*

Defence: 10

Health: 63/63 (5+48+5+5)

Ether: 68/68 (5+48+1+5+4+5)

Gold: 931

Equipment: Crystal Mace (WP: 45 (5*gems imbued); Fire-, Ice-, Wind-, Water-, Lightning-, Earth-, Wood-, Light-, and Darkness-elemental; Mace), Robe of the Archmagi (SP:3, Ether:5. immune to Sealing, bodywear), Medal of Glory (gain triple XP; accessory), Ethereal Cloak (SP:2, Max. Ether +4, backwear), Fanged Helm (SP:5, headwear), Winged Sandals (Immune to bound and slowed, footwear)

Inventory: • Mythrilized Empyreal Staff (WP:28), Nocturne Flute (WP: 6; inflicts the Asleep effect; Instrument), Pongcanis Spear (WP: 9; Spear), Pongcanis Shield (SP: 7; Shield) • Gold Dragon Crown (max Ether +6; immune to Lightning and Stunned; suitable for anyone; Headwear), Desert Cloak (immune to Fire, Earth, and Wind; suitable for anyone; Backwear), Water Canteen (Carries 3 portions of water; Accessory), Cobweb Cowl (immune to Sudden Death; suitable for anyone; Backwear), Winged Sandals (immune to Bound and Slowed; suitable for anyone; Footwear) • Amethyst, Emerald, Topaz, Garnet, Diamond, Sapphire, Rubies (2), Aquamarines (2) • Scroll of Blinding, Scroll of Arc Blinding, Scroll of Sealing, Scroll of Sleep, Scroll of Confusion, Scroll of Frailty, Scroll of Weakening • Potions (9), Grand Potions (5), Health Core, Tonics (4), Ether Cores (4), Remedies (10), Phoenix Essences (4), Phoenix Incenses (2), Mead (13), Smelling Salts (6), Nostrum (6), Ambrosia, Deadly Venom (3), Smoke Bombs (2), Holy Bomb, Water Bomb (14), Lightning Bomb (14), Dirt Bomb (3), Aeolus Bomb, Flash Bomb, Demon Repellant (Makes the user impervious to direct attacks from demons for one battle), Soul Cage (Doomed-effect to all combatants), Naamah's Hourglass (Randomly causes either Hastened or Slowed to the target at the cost of 3 Ether), Skeleton Decoys (2), Bones (17) • Pickaxe, Bedroll, Jade Lamp of Summoning (summons Mediq, restoring Health equal to the Level of the summoner at the cost of 5 Ether) • Silver Ore (60 Gold)

[K-Nut]

Etheria - Some Years Ago

Piglina, Archmage First Order, makes her way down one of the many winding hallways of the Never-Ending Palace when she hears footsteps running to catch up with her. She turns to see Bombast Bombast, Official Weather Mage of Etheria, flagging her down.

“A moment of your time, Piglina! If you don’t mind. I have a brief matter to discuss with you.”

“All matters should be discussed in front of the council. And if it’s about sending another agent to Eubric... well, I’ve had it up to here about that! We’re sending someone, and that’s that.”

“I know it! Have I not been your champion in this matter for months? We must keep an eye on those people. Heroica and their new atifact, the rise of the Cold Circles, and always… that Temple below ground. Who is to guard it if not us? We are agreed on this matter! My only question is if you are utterly sure about who we should send...”

“I trust him. His training checks out, he's got no ties to any of the more ridiculous circles yet-”

“He is but a silly boy...”

There is a puff of smoke, and both mages cough as Amarcolm, Choamancer Supreme, crosses his arms and glares at them.

“Not trying to have an impromptu meeting without the rest of the Council, are we?”

Bombast blushes. “Just a discussion between friends. Piglina and I were talking about the boy...”

“Sounds like a council matter. I don’t know why you feel we need another agent in Eubric at all. The Zeigfrieds are one of the greatest wizarding families this world has ever seen.”

“Too unruly. Too unperdictable.”

“All the better! Is not magic unruly? And if not them, Eldritch and his wife can look after the city. And in Uland we have my own two apprentices, Chauncey and Avetine can easily look after one small island. Though you know I’m never opposed to introducing more factors into the mix!”

A creaking old voice, hollow now but clearly once enormous, calls from down the Hallway.

“I thought we’d agreed to not monitor the Free Islands any more than we already have!”

The three turn and watch as Mighty Harold Iceborn, far past his prime yet still Highest Necromancer, marches steadily towards them.

“The Cold Circles have expressed a desire to look after the islands themselves!”

“Wonderful! The uzardtirn is here!”

“You’re letting your heart rule your head, Iceborn. The Cold Circles need careful monitoring themselves.”

“Oh dear. If this really is going to turn into a full out council meeting, we might as well alert the Mother.”

“What’s the point? She abstains half the time anyway. I think she’s too afraid to go near the Free Islands because that’s her brother’s domain.”

A flutter of wings draws all four pairs of eyes upward. The Mother of Hope, Guider of the Council, comes to land facing them.

She speaks in a soothing merry voice, a twinge of delight in her eye.

“As I have told you many times, Bombast, my brothers and I do not claim domains. We choose to go our separate ways, unless we must not. Though my brother on the Free Islands has been missing for some time now... that is neither here nor there. This matter has already been settled. Piglina wishes to send the novice to observe all circles on the island, and we will await his reports. Now come, there must be some matters more pressing than that. Shall we hold our conference in the Council Room, just this once?”

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Eubric Freeport - Present Day

"Eubric Freeport!" cries out a voice, preceding its speaker through a rift in time and space, and then ZAP two figures stand in a forgotten corner of the docks. Piglina dusts herself off and looks after.

"Thank you, Void Master," says Piglina. She sniffs the air. "Ah, it's been a long time since I've been home. Perhaps I will do some sight seeing. But business first, of course. I'll meet you here in exactly one day?"

The Void Master nods, and then with another ZAP he is gone. Piglina shakes her head. "I guess it's off to the Hall, then," she mumbles to herself.

Piglina makes her way down the streets until she comes to a crossroad. Now, which way was it again? Meanwhile, a darkened figure steps out of a dark corner.

"After all these years, I'd think your sense of direction would've gotten better," Althior smirks.

"There's a reason I didn't take a boat," she replies, coldly. It was evident where Althior got his mannerisms from. She walks towards the Necromancer. "You know why I'm here then. If you came all the way down here to meet me,"

"I figured the council was meeting with all of their informants in town. Me, the Eldritches..."

"You know this isn't a simple meeting Althior. I'd hoped you would recognize that," ​she says with a twinge of disappointment in her voice.

"There's a difference between what I'd recognized and what I'd hoped." he pauses for a few moments before continuing. "I did what you'd asked, Piglina. What the council asked me to do. I surveyed the situation in Eubric: Abraxas, the Porthiars, the Ziegfrieds, even the Mindflayer. I reported what I saw back to the council when I deemed it right to. I remained in the city until city business took me out of the city, and I continued my job there."

"Trust me, Althior, we know. I know. You did your tasks admirably, and your talent in ethereal manipulation showed itself numerous times. Not just anyone can create a physical, self-sustaining representation of ether as you did with your aura," she pauses to look around, "Where is he by the way?"

"Not important. Go on,"

"As I was saying; your completion of tasks was indeed admirable. In fact it was among the best of our informants. But your actions, well... They reflected on both of us poorly. Your immediate siding with the Wolfgang among the Violetta business had admirable motivations, but it showed myself and the council how easily corruptible you were. I had hoped you knew not to become involved in a nations politics in accordance with the policies of the council. By the time you went to Babeleth, I had hoped you had changed-"

"I have changed Piglina. Do you still see the naive boy in front of you that left Etheria oh-so many years ago? After that night; the night I died, I came back a new man. You know that,"

"Yes, in fact I do," she pauses, debating what to say next. "The council and I considered that night a happy accident,"

"Excuse me? The end of my life is a happy accident?"

"As much as it shames me to say it, Althior, yes. Your death and subsequent resurrection proved Ethereth favored unlike any of her other servants. We're not sure why, but it kept you and I from becoming insults to the council. The fact that she continued to show her will time and time again was icing on the cake for us, so to speak," she pauses, "You did realize that it is by her hand that you're here today, do you not?"

Althior remains silent. The answer he'd been searching for for years had finally presented itself. His encounter with the Oculoids, his stunning lack of torment from Abraxas; when did all of this come to be? After his "death", of course. How had he been so blind?

"It's not the cleanest method of revival, no, but it keeps you from looking like Iceborn." she continues, "Thus why you had to experience some unfortunate side effects. But it does what it has to. It proved to me and to the council that you had become the ideal soldier for our cause- Ethereth's ideal Prophet. Unfortunately, it became evident to the council and I due to your infatuation with Necromancy..." She pauses yet again, evidently trying to think of what to say, until Althior interrupts.

"You're calling for my resignation, aren't you? I have a quill right here-"

"That discussion has been tabled for a later time by the rest of the council," She says sternly.

He pauses a beat. "But you do want to have a discussion, do you not?" he replies, taken aback by Piglina's strict tone.

Piglina lets out a heavy sigh. "The rest of the council already has. We cannot have a now-famous supporter of the Wolfgang among our ranks Althior. Your job was to survey the situation, not get involved in it. You've embarrassed yourself, and-" She looks away from him. "You've embarrassed me. Luckily, you've provided us with enough information to get yourself an honorary discharge. I'm hoping this doesn't hurt your reputation in anyway, let alone mine..."

She comes closer to Althior, resting a hand on his shoulder. "I believed in you Althior, and even though our paths are parting ways, I still do. I expected better, and I still expect better things from you Althior." She steps away from him as he remains silent. "I'm sorry it had to end this way for you," She turns around, making her way down the dim street.

Before Althior can say a word, she slips out of sight. An empty look appears in the Necromancers eye; not his usual emptiness, mind you, but something new altogether. A lack of purpose, perhaps. Since he had arrived in Eubric, he had one job; one string that was holding him up, that provided support. Now that string was cut. Did he have no support, or had he finally gained freedom from whatever was holding onto him for all of these years. Perhaps this string was being cut, yes, but it allowed him to fall freely onto a new path; one that had seemed out of the question for years. Perhaps, he could set upon a path of fate. Alas, it seemed only time would tell.

He makes his way back to the hall along the same path he had taken nearly four years ago. He opened the doors with a new atmosphere about him: one of freedom, perhaps. Except this time, he did not head straight to the bar as he had most days since he had joined. This time, he makes his way to the training room for the first time in a long while. Perhaps now, it was because he was a different man.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

"Master Emorith," The Copper Fox states. "It's been a while. I wasn't expecting to ever see you again; especially after your," He contemplates the best way to say it, "personality change,"

"Nor did I," the Necromancer states. "However, some things did come to my attention recently," quite recently, in fact, but that was a discussion for another time. Before he could speak, he is interrupted.

"You wish to retrain yourself as a Prophet, do you not?" The Necromancer nods. "I had assumed so..." He circles Althior. "Your more recent endeavors allowed yourself to show a connection to the Ether flow that is not seen often,"

"I've been hearing that a lot lately," he mutters.

"Let us begin then. And hope this profession brings in better results than the previous one..."

Althior Emorith, The Dragonslayer (K-Nut)

36 years old male human Prophet of Ethereth

Level 53 *Clairvoyance* *Glossolalia* *Permanently Transcended* *Immune to Petrified, Fragile, Bound, and Slowed* *Absorbs Earth* *Immune to Ice and Darkness*

Power: 74 (53+25) (Spellpower: 84 (53+25+5))

Defense: 15 (2+5+5+3)

Health: 73/73 (5+52+15+1)

Ether: 88/88 (5+52+15+10+4+2)

Equipment: Scepter of Divine Affinity (WP:21, Has ⅙ chance to deal cursed effect on successful spells and ⅙ chance to deal blessed effect on successful healing, staff), Ethereal Cloak (SP:2, Max Ether +4; backwear), Coat Hanger (Allows wearing a second bodywear artifact regardless of the amount limit for artifacts; accessory), Robe of the Seneschal (SP:5; wearer absorbs earth-elemental damage and is immune to petrified, ice, and darkness elemental damage; suitable to clerics, mages, chi monks, necromancers and scholars; bodywear), Robes of Illumination (SP: 5, +10 Max Ether, wearer is permanently transcended, suitable to prophets; bodywear), Lieutenant's Helm (SP:3, protects from fragile; headwear), Winged Sandals (protects from bound and slowed effects, footwear), Magician's Gloves (+10 spellpower, suitable to mages; handwear)

OoC: HUGE thanks to Zepher for writing this with me.

Edited July 1, 2015 by K-Nut

[JimBee]

Hybros enters the Training Room to find Guts and the Copper Fox. After a brief exchange, the two Alchemists begin their training as Marauders. The Copper Fox teaches them dexterity with both hands to the point where even a mace can be swung one handed with the right application of weight and agility. The two heroes practice their form and technique alongside each other, until finally they have mastered the class. It was time for the final test.

The human and the imp stand opposite each other, as both adversaries and old friends. Dummies and targets are pushed to the side of the room and candles dimly light the makeshift dueling arena. Copper Fox sits cross-legged in the middle, meditating with his eyes closed. The fighters give each other a nod and an unbroken gaze to the other. Finally, they each draw their weapons. Guts wields his old favorite Mythril Edge in one hand and the newly-acquired Balanced Rapier in the other, while Hybros held the Sword of Ancestral Hatred and Justice.

Another few moments of silent concentration, and Copper Fox opens his eyes. It is the signal to start the sparring bout, and it begins. Hybros and Guts charge at each other and collide, the sound of metal-on-metal echoing in the hall. The candlelight casts shadows that dance across the walls, limbs and weapons move impossibly fast. Each offensive strike is answered with a parry and riposte, only for that attack to be countered. Blades clang and scrape as the pair step around the unfazed Copper Fox, with not so much as a stray sword or cloud of dust being kicked up venture near. The flurry of blades and sparks never even grazes the Veteran.

Guts is physically stronger, but Hybros is a smaller target, and has quicker reactions. The imp's wings give him the advantage of mobility, but also give him more area to protect. The fight seems to be impossibly even, as if it go on for eternity in a never-ending draw. Finally, Hybros uses his wings to give him a bigger push into Guts' blade to push it aside and leave him wide open. Not a second is lost in this opportunity as Hybros thrusts with Justice at the open target. But Guts is even quicker to respond, and before the dagger can reach its target it flies out of its wielder's hand thanks to a kick to the face. The imp goes flying backwards from the impact and also drops the Sword of Ancestral Hatred. He is left stunned and defenseless on the ground and before he can recover Guts is already leaping through the air, dagger raised barbarically for the lethal stab straight down into Hybros' chest.

As if in slow-motion, the imp instinctively grabs the nearest weapon: Zoot's Reaper, which somehow found its way into his hands. He didn't have time to think about how it ended up there though, so raised the scythe to defend himself and shut his eyes tight...

~~~

Silence followed. Was he dead? Would Heroica really allow its heroes to be killed during training?

When Hybros dared to open his eyes again he saw Guts standing over him, struggling to push against Zoot's Reaper that had blocked the attack. The weapon, he was awed to see, was no longer a scythe, but a curved sword that was perfectly shaped to hold Mythril Edge by the hilt around one side of the crescent and the tip on the other. Guts was stronger and had the momentum advantage, but no matter how hard he pushed he dagger was stuck and could go no further. Finally he withdrew by pulling it back as sparks flew between the two weapons. They each took a brief breath and prepared to continue again, but were interrupted by a voice cutting through the Training Room.

"Enough."

He didn't have to shout. Both heroes ceased their duel immediately at the command.

Hybros rose and faced the Copper Fox with Guts. Their training was complete. They had both achieved to master the fighting style ofMarauders. Yet their rivalry was left unsatisfied. They regarded each other with fiery yet friendly looks, and departed.

Hybros (JimBee)

54 year old male imp Marauder

Level: 37

Health: 63/63

Guts Holla (Scubacarrot)

45 year old male human Marauder

Level: 39.5

Health: 63/63

[-obelix-]

As Thalion enters the training room, he is greated by the Copper Fox, "Ah, Thalion Dwinlas, didn't I train you only a short while ago?"

"Indeed you did, master Fox, however, the path of the Artisan is not really suited for me. I still feel the power of ether but I cannot muster the willpower to use it... "

"Did you decide to listen to my advice from earlier than?"

"Yes. I did. I would like to become a Mystic Knight!"

"Let us begin then."

After a very short while, Thalion's training is complete and he leaves the Training Room a Mystic Knight.

213 years old male elf Mystic Knight

Level: 32.75

Power: 43 (Level 32 + WP 11)

Health: 43/43 (5 + 31 + 7)

Ether: 42/42 (5 + 31 + 5 + 1)

Edited July 23, 2015 by -obelix-

[Kintobor]

It had only felt like a few days, but the week home with Masson left Karie antsy. She carefully placed Sexy in her trunk, but not before giving her one last kiss. She hoped to one day return to her favourite blade, but it didn't seem to be soon. She locked the rest of her weapons away, with the exception of her two palms, seeing how they were wrapped around her two arms. Readying her makeup, Karie gave Masson and her daughter a kiss each and headed out to the hall. Change was good, Karie thought, and on the way to the hall Karie stepped into a small salon, followed by a trip to Fabio's...

---

Karie proudly walked into the Training Room, a gaggle of musical instruments in her arms. The Copper Fox chuckles.

"Can't say I've seen you in a while. Let me guess... you want to train to be a Minstrel?" Karie smiles.

"You won't need to be doing much, just a refresher." She took a seat in a chair as the Copper Fox readied himself a guitar, Karie pulling out her own. "Going to be honest, it's been a while since I played any musical instruments... but I'll knock your socks off with my vocal ability." Karie commented as she looked her guitar over.

"Well then, if you know the basics of playing music, perhaps a refresher and some small vocal queues?" The Cooper Fox asked. Karie nodded enthusiastically as the two jammed for what seemed like hours. Karie streamlined through vocal training, taking only a few minutes before the Copper Fox was satisfied.

"Considering how good that went, Karie, I'm surprised you're not in one of Wigglepike's productions. Congratulations. You're officially a Minstrel." Karie shook the Copper Fox's hand.

"Thank you, I think it's finally time to bring a bit of my personally branded sound to this hall."

Karie Alderflask-Cour, A True Hero, and a School Inspector (Kintobor)

24? Year Old Human Female Minstrel

Level 32.5

Power Bonus: 0

Health: 60/60 (7+8+11+32+2)

Defense: 6 (2+4)

Ether: 42/42 (32+4+4+2)

Edited August 15, 2015 by Kintobor

[Lind Whisperer]

An unfortunately too-familiar figure walked into the Training Room.

"Oh, great, you again."

"And a very good afternoon to you too, sir."

"Let me guess - you'll be going Black Knight?"

"Ta-da!"

"Heroes do not say ta-da."

"Every time a quest-bell rings-"

"That's not actually a saying."

"-A black knight gets its wings."

"Well, you're already trained, so...I guess you're a Black Knight, now."

"Sweet - see you when it's time to go Dragoon."

"Heroes don't say 'sweet'."

Lind Whisperer is now a Black Knight!

Again.

[CMP]

Atramor returns to the training room, having become quite familiar with the area over his very long career in Heroica. Just over four years had passed. It certainly wasn't what he had expected...hell, he wasn't what he expected anymore. Perhaps wanting to reclaim a bit of the life he'd left behind, he already had his goal in mind when he managed to find the Copper Fox.

"There ya' are. Place looks nearly deserted."

"Indeed, Mister Gibbin. The next wave of heroes is on its way towards their advanced classes, though."

"....hah, advanced classes." Atramor chuckled, then scratching his increasingly scraggly chin. "Where the hell have the years gone...eh. Anyway, wanted to pick up what I needed to be a Rogue again, but..."

"But it's beneath you."

"Aye."

"Hm. Maybe your answer is more in line with Heroica than you think." The Copper Fox smiled a bit knowingly. "You've been with Heroica a long time, Mister Gibbin. There are some secrets we withhold from all but the most accomplished heroes, and now you rank among them. So, perhaps a few more tricks to add to your arsenal...courtesy of Heroica's original rogue."

The pirate spent some time training with the Copper Fox, learning some of the trade secrets Lady Luck had left behind two and a half centuries ago. Armed with her knowledge - and several daggers, as always - Atramor left the training room a Rogue Thief.

Atramor Gibbin, the Fiery Champion and the Serpent Skinner (CallMePie)

33 year old male human Rogue Thief

Level 42.2 *Immune to all elements, poisoned, and doomed* *Negative effects last one round* *Sticky Fingers* *Kingpin*

Power: 72 (42 + 30)

Defense: 14 (4+6+4)

Health: 80/80 (7+41+20+6+6*)

Gold: 25

Equipment: Living Mythril Claws (WP: 30, double WP against humanoids, +1 WP after every successful hit, resets at end of current quest, fire and darkness elemental, dual strike, daggers), Amulet of the Court (Negative effects last only one round on the wearer, accessory, suitable for anyone), Rat's Hide (SP: 4, backwear, suitable for anyone), Galactic Armor (SP: 6, +6 max health, immune to water, wood, lightning, fire, earth, wind, ice, light, darkness, and doomed, bodywear, suitable for anyone), Helmet of Azzurat (SP: 4, immune to poison, headwear, suitable for anyone), Sticky Gloves (Increases the amount of gold stolen by 50% (rounded up), suitable for rogues and beast warriors; handwear.)

Inventory

Weapons: Pheles Kris (WP: 20, wielder has a 1/2 chance to generate an Aura, doubling the user's maximum health but drawing all attacks to them, fire, ice, lightning, earth, wind, light, darkness elemental dagger), Robust Shield (SP: 12, shield), Living Shield (SP: 5, SP increases by 1 every time the user takes damage from an enemy. Resets after every battle), Living Silver Greatsword (WP: 15, +1 WP after every successful hit, resets at end of current quest, greatsword)

Artifacts: Bracers of Insatiable Avarice (Power +2; user gains 25 Gold for every enemy he kills, handwear, suitable for hunters, berserkers, battle mages, beast warriors, dragoons, marauders, regulators, and skirmishers), Chameleon Vest (Max. Health +10, the user becomes able to absorb the last element it was damaged with; bodywear), Canary (Remedies Poisoned when used on target, Bird familiar.),

Scrolls: Scroll of Arc Frailty (50/50 chance to inflict the fragile-effect to all enemies for ether equal to the number of enemies), Scroll of Fire Armor (50/50 chance to conjure a layer of fiery armor over the target, giving them a 50/50 chance to deal the burned by 10-effect when hit by Damage or Special Damage at the cost of 5 ether), Scroll of Ice Armor (50/50 chance to conjure a layer of ice armor over the target, giving them a 50/50 chance to deal the stunned-effect when hit by Damage or Special Damage at the cost of 5 ether), Scroll of Tongues (Grants the user the Glossolalia Job Trait. Each casting lasts for a limited amount of time and costs 10 ether), Scroll of the Chasm (When cast, has a 50/50 chance to tame a Dark monster for the next six rounds at the cost of 10 ether)

Consumables: 6 Bones, Dirt Bomb, Fenghuang Incense (After being consumed, automatically revives all party members with full health once when knocked out; cannot revive targets that are already knocked out.) Fire Bomb, 1 Grand Potion, 11 Grand Tonics, Health Core, 2 Meads, Smelling Salts Nostrum, Phoenix Essence, 3 Phoenix Incenses, Potion, 3 Remedies, Smoke Bomb, 4 Venoms, Water Bomb, 2 Elixer, 1 Remedy, 2 Mythril Shards, Topaz, 3 Ether Cores

Tools: Decamodifier (Transforms an enemy with a quarter or less health left into a Decamon card when used, if there is a corresponding card. The monster will not drop anything if it is modified. Tool.), Flint and Steel (Handy for starting fires), Pickaxe, Shovel, Rope, Magic Shovel

Decamon Deck (36): Volt Ant (Electric 1), Tweetybird (Flying 1), x2 Brains-in-a-Jar (Ethereal 2), x2 Barghest (Electric 2), Vampire Bat (Flying 3), Tangleweed (Plant 3), x2 Dune Ghoul (Rock 3), Simsalamander (Fiery 3), Sylph (Electric 3), Succubus (Fiery 4), x2 Holy Cow (Luminous 4), 2x Thunderbird (Electric 4), x2 Death's Rose (Plant 4) Shedu (Rock 5), Automaton (Electric 5), Night Mare (Dark 5), Mushroomhead (Plant 5), Unicorn (Luminous 5), Aquaphant (Aquatic 6), Electriphant (Electric 6), Cave Troll (Rock 6), Dryad (Plant 6), Sandman (Ethereal 6), Woodwose (Plant 7), Carcinos (Aquatic 8), Stone Golem (Rock 8), Storm Elemental (Electric 8), Pegasus (Luminous 8), Cloud Gigas (Electric 9), Phoenix (Fiery 9), Treant (Plant 9)

[Jebediahs]

En Sabah Nur returned to the training grounds.

"Now Alfred, I believe I have discovered the secret to the Wolfgang transformation this time. Yes, they have offered to show me how but I asked that I be able to give it one more try on my own. It's going to require a great deal of ether maybe even all of it . Fortunately I have boosted my potential by consuming that strange ectoplasm long ago. Let me just...switch some of my equipment around. I don't want this Magic Mirror's power to conflict with what I'm about to do...The magics behind this Lichen Armor may also prove disruptive. Fortus, Fortunus..." Nur cast his spell. The rocks and dirt fell away from the Wooden Shield as it hit the ground. Nur glanced in the direction of the sound then coughed briefly. "Alright it looks like the hairs on my arm growing. My throat...a twinge in myyy-rrraawwck!"

"Sir, it appears that not only the hairs on your arms but those on your entire body are widening and growing thicker." Clutching his throat and unable to speak, the mage looked at his golem as dispair washed over his face. Nur's jaws began to extend. "Do not fear, that is only the sound of your bones breaking, hollowing and fusing together. I am quite familiar with the error you made in your incantation. You may have forgotten my many years serving in the Tower. During my tenure I did find time to learn some things. You will experience no physical pain as the spell separates those connections between the mind and body. Your vision will soon become as powerful as a standard telescope." Nur indeed began to experience binocular vision, spotting two

on a leaf some distance away. His eyes blinked then blinked again without blinking...? "A nictitating membrane. Your upper and lower jaws now end in a beak. The words you used would evoke amazement and curiosity in me if I suffered from emotions. You seem to be touched by Mercutio. I suspect your past has been fraught with what you likely assumed were mistakes but in reality were blessings in the form of tricks from the Trickster God."

The world around Nur became much bigger as he shrank. Alfred the former seneschal knelt down with an extended hand. The bird stared at the golem from the ground. It cocked its head then took a few steps forward. It was unknown if the bird understood Alfred's words but it fluttered briefly to land atop the golem's shoulder.

"You will return to your human form in times of intense aggravation...such as after unleashing a particularly beastly attack in combat. Convenient, for you. After an unknown number of transformations you will return to yourself permanently once more. Until then I will attend to your finances and maintain your affairs so that everything remains in order once you are well." The former seneschal collected his master's belongings.

"As a dire crow, I believe you have some understanding of the situation though my words are most likely gibberish to you. You are bigger than a normal crow yet still smaller than the typical raven. Perhaps I should join Heroica and pass myself off as a Sylvan Ranger like Professor Hawke. I will name you Gastrolith." The crow cocked his head curiously. "Yes, I learned many a thing while serving the Tower. Many a thing..."

- "En Sabah Nur" grinned.

&

"En Sabah Nur" & Gastrolith (Played by Jebediahs)

31 year old male human, Beast Warrior

Level 32.75 *Natural Respite*, *Immunity: Blinded, Fragile, Sealed and Lightning elemental attacks*, *Nimble on first round of combat*, *Deals double damage to enemies weak to fire*

Power: 47 (Level 32 + Axe 15)

Defense: 7 (Artefact Bonus 7)

Health: 61/61 (Mage Base 5 + Level Up Bonus 31 + Beast Warrior Bonus 15 + Raw Meat Bonus 5 + Raw Meat Bonus 5)

Gold: 25

Equipment: Mythril Axe (WP: 15, Axe), Traveler's Cloak (SP: 1, Backwear ), Custom Fitted, Grounded and Sealed Heavy Armour of Brilliance(SP:5,Immune: fragile, blinded, sealed and lightning, suitable for En Sabah Nur, Bodywear, ), Flexible Greaves (SP: 1, imparts the Nimble effect during the first round of combat, Footwear ), Fire Amulet (Makes physical attacks do double damage to all enemies that are weak to fire, Accessory )

[Dragonfire]

Avalanche ducks under the crooked wooden door to the Training Room, barely squeezing his huge frame through the doorway. It is clear that he is no longer the naive young yeti who came to Eubric a year and a half ago. He has made both friends and enemies, fought many battles, made some hard decisions and experienced both success and failure. But what has changed him most is his year-long hiatus from Heroica - it has taught him valuable lessons about cowardice, courage and what it truly means to be a hero. And now he is ready to take the next step in his journey.

"Hello? Anyone there? I'm Avalanche...."

A few days later, Avalanche emerges from the Training Room with a lopsided smile on his furry face, a renewed vigour in his step and a fierce determination about his person that he has never exhibited before: a steely resolve to not fail, not falter and continue on his path to heroism.

Introducing....

Avalanche, the Super Sleuth (Dragonfire)

30 years old male yeti Raider *Natural Respite* *Immune to Fragile* *Counterstriking*

Level 16

Power: 25 (16+9)

Health: 31/31 (16+14+1*)

Edited December 4, 2015 by Dragonfire

[Khorne]

Eric the Northman exited the Free City of Eubric and let the bustling hive of commerce behind him. With steady and sure strides he marched alongside the beaches and shores of Uland. His sturdy leather boots sank into the damp, wet and slightly muddy underground at times and a cold and piercing howled through distant trees and battered the Nord's face. The weather was cold and harsh, but it was the way Eric liked it. Weather like home. His feelings were underlined by a warm smile on his face.

Something was brewing in Eubric and Eric wanted to be at the forefront of it. Sides were being formed and preparations were being made. A time of chaos would ensue, undoubtedly, and that would be Eric's chance to strike. True to Reno's ideas, Eric would turn Eubric into a truly Free City again. To this end, Eric had chosen to ally himself with the Sungold Alliance and to a bid for its leadership. In his own mind, he was obviously the best candidate, eager to make some significant changes to Eubric. Allying himself with an organisation consisting out of the old powerful and aristocratic families of Eubric had been a bold move. Eric had no ancient ties to the city at all, he was a foreigner who longed for home and who greatly loathed at least two out of the three Houses in the Alliance. Yet, sacrifices had to be made for the endgame. Eric's tongue was golden and his demeanour smooth enough to lie his way through everyday life and pose as a true specimen of successful integration into Southern Eubrican society, unlike many of the other Northern refugees living in Eubric and who cling to their traditional ways of violence and superstition. The Nord built a Southern facade around him, but inside he remained Norse at heart. So he strode, in search of some Nordic cult said to be living along the Uland shores.

The cult worshipped Njordon, the Norse God of the Seas and King-Dweller-of-the-Depths, and his more sinister Brood. The cult had sprung up only recently, in the past few years or so, together with the influx of Nordic newcomers to Eubric. They had all left their home for vague and obscure reasons, none really knew why and most Eubricans simply didn't care. They were devil-worshippers and wildmen and so most of the Nords kept to their own communities and own Gods. The cult of Njordon had been pushed out of Eubric over the course of several feuds with rival cults of Neron and Neredice. They refused to acknowledge the competition the cult of Njordon brought and were jealous of its seeming popularity with some of the sea-going folk. Now, Njordon's priests were holed up along the shores, close to the sea: the domains of its master.

It took Eric a while before he had reached their little settlement, nothing more than a collection of shabby huts made out of driftwood and adorned with all sorts of nautical decorations. The priests looked up and flocked around the Raider. With little words Eric explained why he had come, but they already knew. There are only a few reasons why one would seek out the priests of Njordon, tucked away from society. Eric would pledge his service to the Sea-God. The trial to become a True Servant of the King-Dweller was a disturbing one, with a high probability of death. Only those truly blessed and worthy would make it out alive.

The whole ceremony, if one could even call it that, went without little words. There was only the crashing of waves and the singing of ritualistic hymns that provided any background sound. Eric stepped closer to the water, wary of the priests flocked around him. Then one of them stepped up and raised his symbolic spear in the air, the signal for another to surprise Eric and wrestle him down in the freezing water. Another priest, a female this time, also got into the water and got on top of Eric, forcing his face into the water. Several more priests joined in the effort. Eric struggled to stay above water, but they were overpowering him. Soon enough, his lungs were filling with water and his was crying out for air. To no avail, his vision first went blurry and then he blacked out. He was gone. They had drowned him.

A pounding blow hit Eric's chest, followed by another. The Nord opened his eyes, only to see the female priestess bent over him once more, performing a crude form of cardiopulmonary resuscitation. A soft smile came to her face as Eric woke up. The lead priest came up behind her and simply said: "You are now a soldier of Njordon. The Sea claimed your life, but the King returned it. Serve him well. Honor our ways."

He stretched out his arm, indicating one of the ramshackle huts behind him. "Are you ready to receive the marks of Njordon?" Eric nodded. Slowly he got up, vomiting some more sea water.

Inside it was dark and musk. There another priest was readying ink and improvised needles. He motioned Eric to take a seat, which he did.

"This might hurt", was all he said as started poking ink under Eric's skin, tattooing twin snakes on the Nord's chest. Sea-serpents from ancient legends, symbolising Njordon's strength.

Eric was now truly a Vindicator of Njordon and the sea would be his.

Previous version.

30 year old Human Nord

Level 30 1/4 Vindicator

Health: 61/61 (8+29+15+4+5 from Raw Meat)

Edited May 3, 2016 by Khorne

[Asphalt]

Vindsval arrives at the Training Hall a short time later.

Hello once again my large green friend. It would seem you have indeed fulfilled your desire to master the Witchery Way. Tales of your use of poisons in battle have reached me even here. But if you come to me you must be in need of a change. But what would you study? You have not the experience to be called a veteran nor the favor of a great house.

I indeed come to you for training, but first I must ask. Do you have a room where you store the banners of those who have passed from these halls?

Copper Fox looks at Vindsval oddly but leads him to a storage room full of crates and chests.

A strange request Vindsval, but you are welcome to look through this storage room, and use anything that you find.

Vindsval digs through the chests until he finds what he was looking for. A symbol from his past. The emblem of the first great beast that he and his companions destroyed on Tridentia.

Thank you Wanderer for your guidance and Wisdom. Now to visit the armorer.

Vindsval leaves the Training Hall to visit Anwyl in the Marketplace.

Wat is it that ye be needing boy? Yeh kin see I am a busy Man.

I am in need of your skills. I was blessed with this arm and a new charge. To complete this I will need your help.

He detaches and hands the Master Smith his new arm along with the banner

If you have the time, here is what I would you to do.

He and the smith discuss his plans to modify the carapace of the armored arm, as well as to craft a crest plate embossed with the Sigil from the banner. It takes a number of hours of planning, and the smith works long into the night on the modification and crafting. By morning Vindsval leaves with what he sought.

With his new arm, his new crest and new goal he returns to Copper Fox's training room. Through many days of prayer, training, and adaptation Vindsval soon emerges a new creatures. Gone is The Half Born. In his place is The Scorpion Knight.

Vindsval Half-Born (Asphalt)

37 year old, Male, Half Giant,

Level: 31 Paladin *Gains Triple XP* *Immune to Asleep, Blinded, Confused, Fragile, and Weakened, Effects* (Attacks cause bleeding in Humanoids, 1/3 chance against all others) When Poisoned becomes Blessed

Power: 57 (31+24+1+1)

Power Bonus +2 (2015 Henry Awards)

Defense: 30

Health: 50/50 (9+30+11)

Ether: 35/35 (5+30)

Gold: 509

Equipment:

Vampire's Court Sword (WP:12 (24); 1/3 chance to cause bleeding; always causes bleeding to humanoids; great sword.)

Medal of Glory (accessory, mark of true talent that allows the wearer to gain triple experience from battles, immunity toAsleep,Blinded,Confused, Fragile, and Weakened effects)(lent by Benji)

Mythril Mail (SP:10; suitable to knights and barbarians only; bodywear)

Mechanical Arm (Doubles WP for the equipped weapon; wearer cannot become disarmed; suitable for Vindsval only; handwear)

Toxic Hood: (Headwear. The green hood worn by the Rosalia Pestilence. Changes the poisoned effect, to Blessed for the duration of the battle if poisoned while wearing the hood, Usable by all.)

Mythril Shield (SP: 20 Shield)

Edited March 31, 2016 by Asphalt

[Zepher]

Boomingham strides into the Training Room for the first time in years upon years. He is followed by his entourage - Servus and Barty glance around the space nervously.

"Welcome back," says Copper Fox. "Long time no see." He glances at Servus. "New recruit?"

"No."

"You're not King yet, Lawrence. Don't know if you should have attendants."

"He's not that. Just a trusted friend. We're returning from a trip to the High Kingdoms."

"See anything there?"

"Just some ruins. Somewhere I used to live. It's no good anymore."

"Sounds like a bummer."

"It was." Boomingham sighs and opens a mead. "I'm not here to talk about the past though. I am here to change the future."

Barty rolls his eyes. Copper Fox glances at the little angel.

"Think you've done all the good you can for him?"

"Please! I will be happy to get a new assignment!" waxes the little angel.

"Never mind the little pest. I'm here to become a Vindicator, of Pseudo, of the Gray Angel, and... of Ennoc."

"You made up your own pantheon?"

Boomingham nods.

"Alright. Let's get to work. Got to get rid of the angel first, though."

Boomingham turns to Barty.

"Scram."

"I'm going. But know, Lawrence, that I will keep my eye on you, and I will be there if you should you fail. You were a total disappointment."

"You too."

But Boomingham winks at the angel, and as the angel starts to simmer out of existence for possibly the last time with his former Paladin, he calls out.

"You will falter, Lawrence. So this is not good bye."

"Better not be." He salutes his angel, and for once Barty returns the favor before ascending.

"So sentimental. Shall we get to work?"

Lord Lawrence Boomingham (Zepher)

Level 36 1/4 Vindicator

Power Bonus: 5 (4+1)

Health: 64/64 (10+35+15+2+1)

[CMP]

Miderun pushed open the doors to the training hall with more anticipation than she'd expected. Little expectations existed for training standards outside of Baltarok...but seeing as how this was Heroica, she had little doubt there would be an endless amount for her to learn. These thoughts bounced around in her head until she was standing face to face with a stern looking man in brilliant bronze armor.

"Greetings. It seems you're in need of training, no?"

She eagerly nodded. "Yes. I am-"

"Miderun, yes. Not a soul passes into the training hall without me knowing their worth. And like many others, I believe that you are."

He led the somewhat awestruck orc through the training grounds, passing various mutilated dummies and leftover angel dust.

"So, have you determined what to train as? Raider, perhaps? Maybe Shaman, following in the footsteps of our own-"

"No magic," she stated rather reflexively, stretching her fingers under her bandaged arm. "I thought, perhaps...I am....have been told, anyway...that I can be somewhat angry. A lot. Many things bother me in this mess called a 'Freeport'."

"Hm. So I've heard. Then perhaps we should put it to better use."

It took several long, brutal, and long hours before Miderun was able to do anything other than swing a weapon when attacking her foes, but eventually hefting a shield took very little effort at all thanks to the Fox. The extra bite to her aggressive tone didn't hurt either. She exited the training hall as a Berserker.

Miderun (CallMePie), The Woman Who Killed Sean Cole

19 year old female orc Berserker

Level 17 *Attacks cause Enamored*

Power: 32 (15+17)

Power Bonus: 6 (3 in back row)

Health: 34/34 (8+10+16)

Defense: 5

Gold: 317

Equipment: Living Silver Greatsword (WP: 15, +1 WP after every successful hit, resets at end of current quest, greatsword), Living Shield (SP: 5, SP increases by 1 every time the user takes damage from an enemy. Resets after every battle), Seductive Perfume (Holder deals the enamored-effect, accessory, suitable for women), Lesser Orc Gauntlets: +6 power on the front row, +3 on the back, handwear, suitable only to orcs)

Inventory:

Weapons: Bonaparte Cutlass (WP: 9, doubled if the user has reputation among the Bonapartes), Club (WP: 5, Club), Serstyral (WP: 3, axe), War Axe (WP: 9, suitable for suitable for barbarians, alchemists, beast warriors, infiltrators, regulators and winged warriors.), Lucustoid Axe (WP: 3), Wicked Javelin (WP: 7, 1/6 chance of dealing the slowed-effect, throwing weapon), Axe (WP: 5), , Oculoid Claw (WP: 13, 1/6 chance of dealing the infected-effect, causing an enemy to lose health equal to 1/3 of their level rounded down at the end of each round, club)

Artifacts: Tricorne (SP: 3, headwear, suitable for anyone), High Heels (Power +1; suitable for women.), Loincloth of the Ancient (SP: 3, Absorbs Earth, footwear), Vest of Faded Trials (SP:8, 1/2 chance of granting reinforced effect at the start of every battle, Immune to Fragile; Suitable for Knights, Barbarians, Dragoons, Skirmishers, Regulators, Vindicators; bodywear and headwear), Twizty's Mystery Box (Traps a fraction of the demon's soul in the box; Deals 666 Dark damage OR Poisoned +6, Bleeding +6 OR Cursed effect to opponent, determined by a dice roll. Usable every 6 rounds in a quest. Accessory)

Gems: Opal, Amethyst

Consumables: Mermaid Scale (Increase SP by 1 for the duration of one battle; consumable), Phoenix Essence, 3 Potions, Mead, 2 Grand Potions, Greater Potion (Restores 50 health to the target), Grand Tonic, 7 Venom, Smoke Bomb, Health Core, Orcish Grog (Grants encouraged- and inspired-effects to greenskins, but encouraged- and jinxed-effects to others for one battle, consumable.), Confuse Bomb, 2 Serpent Scales (Grants Reinforced and Nimble-effects for the duration of one battle when consumed)

[Chromeknight]

Feeling the nee to hit things rather than sing at them, Nerwen returns to her Sharman training.

[Jebediahs]

- "Hand me the scroll..."

- "Of course sire."

- "With this power, I can be anything I want!"

- "Master, the text states it only alters how you are perceived by others. It does not actually transform you into your greatest desire."

"Yes, yes I know. If I weretoturnintoagobletofwine, noonecouldactuallydrink from me, I know. I know. But they would believe it to be so. Outside of the questing environment, I can devote enough concentration to regenerate a constant supply of ether for the illusions. And I have quite a few characters in mind..."

"I could be Shai de Bej, a Fenarian battle mage warped by Kreotian magics and chosen to serve as the living avatar of the laughing god Jasiri."

"Jasiri...she who is half elven and half Fenarian in appearance and unashamed of her origins. The one who manifests before her favored as a plump female elven child with a dulled left ear, a frail Fenarian woman with very sharply pointed ears, a sentient Nekrastone or all three at once."

"Mistress of the confused, withdrawn, forgetful and insane. Witness to all things that take place in the dark. Creator of shadow ether, a power hidden among the strands of the Eye's ether accessible only to those who give up a portion of their mind thus condemning themselves to a lifetime of permanent confusion!"

The Seneschal remained silent as En Sabah Nur cast his spell again. A small grayish sack appeared on the ground. A dark green ooze creeped upon the bag and began to insert itself, filling the sack. Tendrils spread forth from the bag and tied a purple sash around the sack as eyes floated aimlessly within a newly sprouted head.

A colorful mop bobbed atop the head as the phlegman reached for a vial containing a remedy.

"Alfred, meet Remedy the Malady, phlegman witch devoted to serving the simpleton slime god, Duplox. I will have her regularly drinking remedies to change the color of her ooze as a fashion statement, her form of makeup if you will." The phlegman's tone shifted to blue as the liquid filled the oozing vessel. Some portions of her body were more saturated with the remedy than others. "Make a note to remind me to never have the tonic pool evenly throughout this form and to have my eyes float in random areas of my body as I become damaged or fatigued. A physical representation of me losing the concentration required to maintain my humanoid form. Alshoo I will fall into the schloshy speaking pattrn. Hm...as far as my personality is concerned...perhaps I can keep random articles of clothing from enemies or love interests and pass as a tad insane as I hear bits and pieces of what the Voice in the Sky says, like the Docken fellow."

- "And how would you explain your inability to divide yourself like all phlegmen?"

- "Ah, simple! I am but 6 years of age and can barely hold myself together as is. A dual striking weapon could grant me a 'temporary ability to split'. I may revisit this form but on to the next!"

"In honor of you, my friend! And those like you who are dedicated to serving a solitary task with pride. The Beguiler is a golem who suffered unending racism from the war Under the Mountain and survived. Growing tired of the constant prejudice he-I secretly wish to destroy all flesh based creatures!

"Built by Kreotian articifers who consulted with rockling geomancers then enchanted by...enchanters. After adorning his body with ether-rich paints, Beguiler is granted the ability to harness the power of the gems making him a dangerous sorcerer! 'THEY HATE US BECAUSE WITHOUT A WAR TO USE US AS EXPENDABLE FIGHTERS, WE HAVE TAKEN THEIR EVERYDAY JOBS' etc. etc." Nur laughed to himself. "Alright, one more. One more."

"Presenting the were-rhino seductress, Farrah Moan the acrobatic sage whose gifts stem from the amorous vapors she expels from her various orifices." Farrah grabs her sash with two hands and uses it to fan her nether regens.

"A fragrant queef to soothe and restore life or an element-enhanced excretion from the rear to incapacitate my foes."

Farrah does a cartwheel. "In her nimble catsuit, Farrah works up quite a sweat!"

"Do not think I have forgotten you, good Alfred. How about a more musclebound appearance for yourself, Crystal Titan perhaps?"

- "Master I do not suffer from the affliction that is vanity-"

"Tut-tut *snort* I have not saved all the creativity for myself!"

- "This has gone on long enough. These am our new forms as long as Cronk can maintain them. Cronk's Angel go with Cronk to cause some mischief. Cronk grin now."

Cronk ESN & Cronk's Angel Alfred (Jebediahs)

31 year old Male Orc, Mystic Knight

Level 33 *Immunity: Blinded, Fragile, Sealed and Lightning, Wood and Earth elemental attacks*, *Nimble on first round of combat*, *Reflects Ether-Based Attacks*, *Magically Disguised*

Power: 55 (77 vs. Humanoids)

Defense: 13 (Artefact boost 7 + Earthy Wooden Shield 6)

Health: 54/54 (Mage Base 5 + Level Up Bonus 32 + Mystic Knight Bonus 7 + Raw Meat Bonus 5 + Raw Meat Bonus 5)

Ether: 40/40 (Mage Base 5 + Level Up Bonus 32 + Mystic Knight Bonus 1 + Ectoplasm Bonus 2)

Gold: 0

Equipment: Quarterstaff (WP: 22/44 against humanoids, suitable for mages, clerics and necromancers ), Earthy Wooden Shield (SP:6, grants immunity to wood and earth-elemental attacks), Custom Fitted, Grounded and Sealed Heavy Armour of Brilliance (SP:5,Immune: fragile, blinded, sealed and lightning, suitable for En Sabah Nur, Bodywear, ), Flexible Grieves (SP: 1, imparts the Nimble effect during the first round of combat, Footwear ) Traveler's Cloak (SP: 1, Backwear ), Magic Mirror (The user reflects all ether-based attacks back to the caster without getting damaged by them, Accessory )

[UsernameMDM]

Hoke enters the Training Room yet again.

"Master Ablesword, what shall we learn this time?"

Hoke calls forth Zoot's Order.

"I will train to be a Paragon."

Copper Fox and Hoke spared for the entire day. Hoke would change Zoot's Order in an instant, utilizing the best weapon in the martial form Copper Fox was teaching. By the end of the day, both were exhausted, covered in sweat and a bit of blood.

"Well done. You are now a Paragon."

Edited June 22, 2016 by UsernameMDM