Ellaria Arbour returns to the Heroica Hall only to find it almost deserted. Just a few adventurers are still hanging around the saloon. Scheherazade is mopping up the floor in front of the Quest Board.

"So, the quests have started, then? I guess this hero-thing was not meant for me after all..." Ellaria said, knowing all too well that she had stalled signing into any of the quests on purpose. Taking such a leap scared the hell out of her.

"Hah, don't be so sure, darling!" Scheherazade snorted. "There will be plenty of quests coming up, just mark my words. Trouble is brewing in the town, with the six houses in turmoil and the criminal organizations taking advantage of that. This city will soon be needing all the heroes it can get."

"Oh... Thank you." That was all she could muster up.

Ellaria turned to leave. Maybe she would return here again after all. It wasn't like she had any other plans...

Grush was sitting at the bar, sipping at his ale and looking wistfully at his huge axe, that he had hoped to put finally to good use, when the quests started. But alas, he had not been picked to join one of the parties. He sighed. He was roused from his daydreams of beheading formidable foes and vile villains, when a huge shadow fell over the bar. He turned, seeing an ogre entering the hall. Finally some excitement!

"Ogre, you look like you can hold your liquor and then some. Come and join me for a round of drinks or two. I am Grush, Son of Urgrann. I have seldom seen ogres in these parts, tell me about your exploits."

Edited August 21, 201113 yr by Speedboat

Not often surprised by anything, En Sabah Nur couldn't help his curiosity when the ogre entered the Hall. And carrying a bow no doubt! A ranger perhaps? He witnesses the orc called Grush interact with the ogre. En Sabah Nur always had an affinity with the orc-kind and approaches the pair.

"Yes Ogre, I too would like to hear of your tales."

A new fellow walks into Heroica Hall. He appears to be human, but on the other hand, some things about him look elvish. He must be a half-elf. He walks over to the saloon, orders a drink, and introduces himself.

Benji Carvenhall, Level 1 Ranger

27 year old Half-Elf Male

Having not been chosen for a quest, Trotter had spent the past day and a half studying in the library, eating and drinking and listening to the numerous conversations taking place in the Hall. He had been reading about the history of the Ancient World and the first battles of the Heroica Heroes. He had enjoyed his reading, but now he felt he needed to go out for a walk. Trotter decided to go to the western shores of Eubric, to enjoy some fresh sea air.

After a morning a sword and shield drills, Hoke enters Heroica Hall in search or some cooling refreshments. He ascends the stairs to order a flagon.

Wanders back into the hall and looks over the quest board in hopes of a new posting. After seeing nothing new, she heads upstairs for some food and drink. It was a long morning of unsuccessfully digging for treasure on the beach.

Cinna sits down at the bar and orders a dinner and pint of ale.

(Prevous Posts, #8)

OOC: Sandy's right. It has gotten awfully quiet here...

IC: Ruitath spent the day wandering the streets of Eubric, pickpocketing nobles and exploring the town like he always did. Come midday, he was around Heroica Hall and decided to stop by to get a drink.

Despite being the day after the quests were announced, he noticed that quite a few heroes were at the saloon.

He noticed Benji, Trotter, Hoke, and Cinna as he sat down and ordered a drink. Another mouthwatering Dwarven Stout.

A ranger he hadn't seen previously (Benji), was walking around and talking to other adventurers until he sat backdown at the bar. Ruitath leaned over and asked, "You new here too?"

~FB~

Edited August 22, 201113 yr by Forestboy

A tall, shirtless man saunters into The Hall, with a large axe slung over his shoulder, muttering to himself. Most folks who notice him ask themselves the obvious questions, such as "Why doesn't he have a shirt on?", "Is he looney? Why is he muttering to himself so much?" and, of course, "With an axe that large, surely, he must be overcompensating for something..?"

He makes his way towards the notice board, grumbles and mumbles some more, and finds himself a seat at an empty table. Those with a keen sense of hearing manage to pick up on a few select phrases: something about some "wretched imp" that had cast a slowing-curse upon him while he was en route to The Hall, and the fact he had missed the first round of employment opportunities as a result.

Skrall looked up, he had been approached by a younger orc and a dark skinned mage that smelled of the earth as also his elemental gem bore witness. Skrall grimaced; he had never had much respect for mages, they always made him uneasy knowing that their power didn't rely on the strength of their arms or the thickness of their hides. This mage however seemed to have an appreciation for Skrall's way of life, at least he didn't dress like the hobnobbed magicians who had just left on their quest to find some missing wizard or another. With a swift draining of his ale Skrall addressed the pair:

Good day to ya gentlemen. The nam' is Skrall. I hail from da far south, I'm of the tribe of Ginni if you've ever heard of 'em. I was born the youngest of my siblin's to my parents, who were both escaped slaves from a forasting crew. My parents raised us all as free ogres, though we were always on the move due to the horrid laws concerning 'r kind. My eldest brothers all joined the orc liberation movement, a radical offshoot of the survivors of the Orcish War; in fact I think I passed one of their demonstrations on my way here. My middlin' brothers and single sister, all decided to attempt to attend the university of Heroica, after bein' thrown out several times by the administration, they were admitted to work as the groundskeepers and participate in night classes.

By the time it was my turn to leave the household, my head was full of political rhetoric, acadamic trivia, and a fervent desire to make my mark on the world. I knew I did't want to join my political nut-case brothers, and I did't want to stoop to the point of being someone's gardener, so I decided to take up the life of a highwayogre. Unfortunately my Ram had already given all of the family heirloom weapons off to my siblin's, so I went and killed myself a gigantic boar. I treated the pig's rib bones in the local salt marches which gave them a subtle yet stout composition, with the hair of my fair Dam I braided a bowstring, and after carving myself a dozen shafts from an oak tree I attached some sharpened flints for my arrow heads.

"The life of a highwayogre would be mine," I thought. I would steal from the snobbish races and give back to my struggling people. Of late however the highwayogre business has gone south (both literally and figuratively) and I dare not set foot to far into that region where oppression continues to plague my people and where I cannot raise my head without being bound in chains. Thus I have come to offer my services here in this hall, who knows maybe the prejudice and tyranny of the heroes who founded it had over my people has subsided. I am encouraged by the employment of the bar maid, but I am sure she has her own stories of the sufferin's of the orc kind.

Now that I have told my story, how and why do you both come to Heroica Hall, is it fame, fortune, or just a free meal that brought you?

Skrall sat back in his chair and lit a pipe, if it could be called that since it resembled a rather large ram's horn stuffed with sour smelling weeds. He would listen for awhile, he had heard about a market place and wished to restock his meager satchel soon however.

En Sabah Nur bows.

"A most riveting account of your experiences, friend. My name is En Sabah Nur and I'm afraid I'm not familiar with your tribe although I've come into contact with quite a few. You see, my father was an expert at separating people from their valuables and as you can imagine, we had to move from city to city quite often. Eventually we ran out of places to hide and were taken in by a small like-minded orc tribe.

Spent the better part of my youth wrestling with orc and ogre younglings and even participating in their rites of passage. The elder shamans noticed something special within me so conducted spiritual tests on me. I displayed an affinity for their magicks so they taught me their secrets. When my father and I finally moved along, I took what I'd learned and continued my magical studies. Although I favor earthen magic, I'm quite well versed in other forms of sorcery. Behold."

En Sabah Nur takes three locks of hair and a small mirror from his pocket. He mumbles a brief incantation as the image in the mirror blurs and refocuses. The party members that left for QUEST #1 are seen entering a pumpkin patch. After a victorious skirmish with some animated pumpkins the image blurs and refocuses again. This time the mirror displays an elf ranger from QUEST #2 talking to a dog. The mirror blurs again then briefly shows the party from QUEST #3 surrounded by colorful mages before returning to its normal reflection of the Hall...

Now that is quite a trick there my friend. I imagine it could come in handy if you wanted to track your enemies. Did your Father approve of your decision to delve into the magical arts instead of following in his footsteps?

"Aye, unfortunately the ingredients are incredibly hard to come by and expire upon use. As for my father - HAH! He was proud of my profession choice. He thought it'd make for a better thief!"

Skrall chuckled he liked people who forged new paths for themselves, he would take note of this mage who had grown up among his own kind, perhaps they would one day quest together.

Well, good mage it has been a delight in talkin' with you, but I think I will go and seek accomodations for the night (if any will have me) and stop in at the market place tomorrow morning.

Grush it was kind of you to introduce yourself, I'm sure we shall meet again.

With that the Ogre stowed away his pipe, heaved himself from his seat and walked out of the hall, noting that there were no quests being advertised at the moment. His thoughts turned to the three sets of travelers on their own quests, perhaps this younger generation had begun to accept his kind for who they were. They wouldn't change his opinion so easily, but he thought he could see a glimmer of hope on the horizon of Heroica's future. "Ah well," he thought "hope is for those sentimental elves and aspiring mages." Skrall had seen the world and he knew that change never came quickly.

Edited August 22, 201113 yr by Waterbrick Down

After burping most polietly, Benji answered Ruitath, "Yes, I'm new here. Whats up with all these ogres here? I'm used to hunting them, not hanging out around them."

Thankfully, Skrall had already walked out so Benji avoiding receiving a thrashing for that.

"Anyways, whats happening around here?"

Benji took another swig of his drink.

Edited August 22, 201113 yr by Flare

Hoke enters Heroica Hall and notices a few new faces. He makes his way to the Questboard, but sees no new postings. Disappointed but hopeful for the next round of quests, Hoke settles onto a stool next to Benji and strikes up a conversation.

"Fair day to you. I am Hoke Ablesword. Are you a fellow advenutrer awaiting a quest or two?"

Ruitath busy chugging his drink, Benji turns and answers Hoke Ablesword. "Hello Hoke, and thank you for your kind welcome. Yes, I cannot wait to get back to my adventures, it has been too long since I have been on one last... would you perhaps be interested in hearing about my quest to slay three mad ogres terrorizing the forest near my home village?"

Grush listened to the ogre's tales. This did not seem to be one of the slow-minded brutes he had often crossed paths with when dealing with other wild mountain tribes on behalf of his father. He was impressed. The people that had gathered in this hall in the last few days were diverse indeed and Grush hoped that this would give adventurers like Skrall and himself the opportunity to gain acceptance among the more civilized peoples through their bravery and heroic deeds.

Astonished he watched as the user of magics, En Sabah Nur, demonstrated his powers and Grush and the others who had gathered around the table could gaze upon the first steps their fellow adventurers had taken in their first quests. How he longed to be among them, fighting and being in the wilds. But that would have to wait.

It had grown late as En Sabah Nur finished his tales and demonstration and Skrall wished them a good night and left the hall in search of a place to rest his travel-weary bones.

Grush had sat in silence as the others had told their tales, but the next opportunity would come to tell them about his journey down from the mountains to the bustling city. He left the hall in search of the marketplace and hoped he would not find all the stalls closed for the night. Listening to all these stories had made him hungry for adventures and he needed supplies...

"...would you perhaps be interested in hearing about my quest to slay three mad ogres terrorizing the forest near my home village?"

"Indeed I would. Mayhaps I may be able to learn something from your tale."

Having overhearded all the stories being told, Henry moves to the other heroes in the almost empty Hall, interested in the story of the guy named Benji. "Hi, you don't mind me joining you, do you?"

Ruitath busy chugging his drink, Benji turns and answers Hoke Ablesword. "Hello Hoke, and thank you for your kind welcome. Yes, I cannot wait to get back to my adventures, it has been too long since I have been on one last... would you perhaps be interested in hearing about my quest to slay three mad ogres terrorizing the forest near my home village?"

(Previous Post, #9)

OOC: Oh, sorry, didn't reply quite quickly enough, Flare.

IC: Ruitath was so hungry that he downed the entire drink while Benji was talking. Very rude of him. "Oh, my apologies. Yes, please do tell."

Benji started talking as Ruitath asked Scheherazade for a hardy meal. A stuffed pheasant would do quite nicely. A large group of adventurers started gathering as story began to unfold...

~FB~

Dyric- a mysterious hooded man- watches from a distance. After taking a few moments to look awesome, he steps forward.

Hello, fellow heroes. I have finally revealed myself. I am Dyric Rone, son of Cyric Rone, son of Byric Rone, son of Ayric Rone. I am part of a family tradition of heroes. I hope I can help save this land from any further disaster.

Oh, and by the way, I'm hungry.

As he recovers from his journey, sitting off to the side of the Hall, Thormanil observes the activity around him. The mage with his mirror tricks is of particular interest to him.

Thormanil, thinking to himself: 'Hrmm.. that illusionist seems to have a few tricks up his sleeve. Wonder if he's got anything that'll "add a few inches"..'

Thormanil chuckles at his little joke, remembering the countless street vendors and self-proclaimed shamen he has seen, trying to pawn off "Growth Potions" on the gullible masses. As he revels in his own wit, he hears something that amuses him more than himself:

A young man, sporting a dark hooded cape, who has been creeping around The Hall, thinking himself quite sneaky, finally steps out into the light. This individual enters into a loud introduction, as though the attention of the entire Hall has suddenly settled upon him. To be fair, he did turn a few heads, though all but a few turned their attention elsewhere by the time he had finished announcing his lineage.

Young Man: "...son of Ayric Rone."

The man pauses to take a breath, then continues with his introduction. Thormanil, thus far entertained by the young man's enthusiasm, listens as his monologue draws to a close. Moments after finishing his speech, the young man mentions that he is quite hungry. Thormanil takes this opportunity to hail the young man.

Thormanil, bellowing to the young man: "~YOU THERE! ALPHABET BOY!"

The young man glances over, unsure of whether or not he was this "Alphabet Boy"

Thormanil, still loud: "~YES, LADDY, I'M TALKING TO YOU!"

Thormanil beckons the young man over to his table, and greets him with a heavy-handed pat on the back

Thormanil, after a hearty laugh: "Welcome to the Hall, uh, Doric, was it? No, that's a dwarven name if I've ever heard one.. Derrick? No..."

He pauses for a second, trying to remember what exactly the man had said his name was...

Thormanil: "AH! Dyric! That's it! Welcome to the Hall, Dyric! To be honest, I only just arrived here myself a short while ago. Bloody imps... but that's a story for another day. Now, you said you were hungry, aye?"

Before Dyric can even reply, Thormanil has already flagged down a barmaid and ordered, what sounded like, enough food to feed a banquet. The barmaid returns shortly with two large flagons of ale, and places them in front of Thormanil, assuring him that the food will be ready shortly.

Thormanil, to Dyric: "Quite the looker, eh?"

He nods towards the orcish barmaid that had brought the drinks over.

Thormanil: "Those greenskins are a sight for sore eyes, for sure!"

Dyric, at this point, has something of a wide-eyed stare, and blank look on his face, not quite sure what to think of this man's so-far strange conversational choices. Thormanil notices this, and after letting out another booming laugh, continues, with Dyric having yet to get a word in edgewise...

Thormanil: "I'M KIDDING, LADDY! Ha Ha Ha, you noble types are always so up tight! You are nobility, aintcha? Never met a commoner with a family tree like yours, at's for sure."

Thormanil takes a large swig of ale, and remembers that the barmaid brought over *two* ales. He slides one across the table to Dyric

Thormanil: "ACH! But where are my manners?! Drink up, Dyric!"

He lifts his mug for cheers

Thormanil: "The name's Thormanil, but you can feel free to call me Thorm. Now, I'm still not sure about you, but I'm for sure no sort of royalty nor nobility. My clan's a bit too.. rural, for that sort of thing. They're much more content to just swing entire trees around at each other, or anyone who gets too close to our village, or tries to make a joke about any darned blue oxen... I'm a giant, y'see. Well, I come from a line of giants. The fates decided to play a twisted joke on me, though, so here I stand no higher than my pop's knee. Heh, my pop had a grand sense of humor, too, what with giving me a surname all my own, Nihai.. Do y'get it? Say it with me... 'Nihai... Ni-hai..' Hear it yet? It sounds like 'Knee High'! Ha Ha Ha!"

Laughing at his own story, Thormanil takes a pause to catch his breath and have another drink.

Thormanil: "Cripes, where is that food? I'm about starving over here! So, Dyric, tell me about yerself! You said yer a (chuckling), rouge, eh? Or maybe I heard ya wrong. Though, if you fancy yourself a rogue, you'd be well advised to keep your hands outta my pockets. See, first off, I aint got no pockets on me, and secondly, I can assure you that that's *not* a purse of coins you'll be finding. Har Har Har!"

Thormanil continues laughing, obviously very amused by his latest joke. After he laughs himself out of breath, he recomposes himself, and awaits Dyric's reply.

OOC: Hope you don't mind, Legonater, that I took the liberty of puppeting your character around a little bit. I felt that it was integral enough to my narration, and minor enough, that it could be excused, and it really lent itself to my character's personality, how I would envision him greeting someone such as your character for the first time. If it didn't sit well with you, then I apologize and will refrain from such in the future.

Edited August 23, 201113 yr by swils

With a small crowd of other heros around him, Benji took another swig of his drink and started his tale.

"Since all of you are so interested in my story... I suppose I should begin without delay. Ah, it was my first quest... to slay the three mad ogres terrorizing the forest near my home village."

Ruitath ordered a stuffed pheasant, and Benji made a mental note to order another one for himself.

"I was but a lad of 15. The village I grew up in, the highest accomplishment possible was to become a ranger. My brother, who was 6 years older than myself, he was ranger. But the day before my 15th birthday, he was out hunting some thieves in the forest... and was brutally mauled by three ogres."

Tears started to form in Benji's eys. He wiped them away and continued to tell his story.

"They took him and his companions by surprise, in the beginning there were actually five ogres, but he was able to take down two of them before he himself was slaughtered. The day we found about what happened, I decided I would be a ranger like my brother, and hunt down those three remaining ogres."

Benji paused, deep in thought. It appeared that Hoke also was deep in thought. Ruitath's pheasant had just arrived.

"So I went, with my two and only best friends to go hunt down those rogue ogres. We knew that if we could return successfully, with the heads of those brutes, it would be likely that we would be bestowed with the honor of the title of Ranger."

"But alas, it did not turned out as planned. While tracking the ogres, we bumped into a large band of outlaws. We were terribly outnumbered. They killed my two friends and took me hostage."

Benji took a pause, and ordered a stuffed pheasant.

"Thankfully they were not only crooks, but lazy bums. They apparently had last broken into some castle or something and had brought with them plenty of wine and other liquor. On the third night of my capture, they had a big fire and a party, and were all so terribly drunk that it wasn't hard to escape. On my way out of the camp I found a crossbow, and took it, and got as far away from that gang as I could."

"And luck must've been on my side, for the next morning, I found fresh ogre tracks, it appears that the ogres must've traveled just before I arrived to there. I found them a couple hours later, eating lunch of some deers, and was able to kill two of them easy enough for they had set their weapons out of their reach and didn't have enough time to get to them before I had slayed them. But I must say, the last one was might brute. He was huge compared to the other ogres, so compare him to me and I look like an ant, heh. He put up a big fight but in the end I was able to take him down. I still have some scars from that battle though..."

Benji's mind wanders off, and his stuffed pheasant arrives so he digs in and gives the opportunity for questions from the other adventurers...

OOC: 1200th post!

Edited August 23, 201113 yr by Flare

Dyric sits there for a few moments, blinking at the sudden whirl of events.

Um, my name is Dyric Rone- as I've already told you. My family is not one of royalty, however we have worked in... well... 'royal' places. The Great Ayric Rone was a bodyguard for the king of a distant country. When a foolish mistake was pinned on him, he used his abilities to pin the mistake back on the original fool, who was then hung for his mistakes. This pattern of rogue-like behavior continued through the generations, until it passed on to me. When someone found of our rogue-like actions, however, I was exiled from that particular kingdom. The I heard of this place, where heroes of all sorts gathered, and decided to come here.