Heroica RPG - Heroica Hall

[JimBee]

As Tarn departs, Hybros looks up briefly from his cup of tea to give one last tip of his hat to the Raider. He let out a soft sigh and went back to staring into his mug. "Wonder when I will get out of here..." he mumbled to no one in particular. He nodded to Monk Pretzel, the superstitious Paladin he had quested with in the Fields of Glory. "Ehem, Monk. Remember me?" Hybros flashed his pointed teeth. "Do not worry, I am not here to curse or taint your, erm, holiness. I was just wondering, because you seem old for a human... where have you been before coming to Heroica?"

[hoanganhbeo]

Until now there are 4 heroes signed up for q 97

[Pyrovisionary]

"Going for pest control, eh?" I chuckle.

Sarge shrugs "Easy gold"

Edited March 16, 2014 by Pyrovisionary

[LordoftheNoobs]

After a few months absence, Grimwald makes his way back in to Heroica Hall, rather tired after a long journey to Drandora to visit his relatives and friends in his old treetop village. He writes his name under Quest 97: Infestation, and slumps into a chair in the saloon for a rest.

[Palathadric]

Ehem, Monk. Remember me?" Hybros flashed his pointed teeth. "Do not worry, I am not here to curse or taint your, erm, holiness. I was just wondering, because you seem old for a human... where have you been before coming to Heroica?"

"Around," I reply vaguely. "I have traveled to much of our known world. Not that it's been good to or for me."

I prepare to spit, but think better of it.

[Flipz]

As Arthur took to the familiar hill outside Eubric, his pulse beat furiously, the black orb clutched in his hand keeping time. Of course Sorrow and Karie would be on a Quest, he thought frustratedly. Skrall's off with Boomers and Nyx somewhere, Dyric's in Baltarok, and De'kra... The Mystic Knight had spotted the little shade, wandering the alleys around the Hall with a blank expression, unaware of anything around him. He clearly was in no shape to be taking on Arthur's problems...or Olegia's, for that matter.

But they wouldn't understand. None of them would. None of them had met The Regret, none of them had seen his awesome power unleashed, unfettered by any mortal form. They did not possess the Sight--save perhaps Karie--and none of them could comprehend the sacrifices that would have to be made if they wanted to defeat him. "Wren was this hard," he muttered to himself, slumping against Triad's headstone as he reached the top. "But I was a different man then. Can I even find that sort of strength anymore?"

The Heroican runs his fingers down the face of the grave, the foreboding stone icy to the touch. Kneeling down to pay his respects, like he has done many times before, he recalls that fateful day... The bloodshed, the carnage, the loss.

Then a seemingly harmless gesture. A few words, from one of the many who had fallen that day...

The Magician stares at the air above her, as if speaking to an invisible force.

"I won't be coming to chat with you yet."

The memory soon becomes vivid... Clearer, more crisp. It didn't help soothe the pain of the day at all.

Something occurs to the mage: he was never present. For any of that. How was he having a memory of something he never saw? There was all of the suspect members in the memory... Mephisto, the soulless magician, the swarm of the court of Demons. The valiant heroes: Cronk, Hoke... Hans. The "heroic" witch he couldn't stand, and his former love.

But there was another creature present. Another...

Not just there. Memories begin to come flooding back of the day, each more and more vivid than the last. The basement of Heroica, their first rendezvous, the sewers of Eubric, the Apothecary... Everywhere, the same invisible being. A familiar shadowy form, eyes that smoldered with hate.

He was there. He was watching. He was always watching. What else had he witnessed? How much did he know? He was even lingering in the Temple of Chaos, content to watch the events occur. He seemed amused, as if a spectator at a play. What was he doing there?

A voice slithers into Arthur's mind. It sounded like so many people he knew. The heroes of Heroica, the villains, the men and women from his past. But all of the voices were being dominated by one... The voice of Regret.

"The child has a nightmare. The child is concerned at first, but then decides to shun it - lock it away, and dub it fantasy. But still, the nightmare lives. It bleeds into reality. The nightmare was real... But the child remains a child. And he can't fight it. He can only watch, and hope it ends..."

Arthur's head snaps around sharply before he realizes the uselessness of his physical form in spotting a lingering soul. His mind's eye gives him a brief glimpse of a wild-haired madwoman from another world delivering a similar taunt, before fixing itself on the pair of illusory eyes that represented the dark Progg mastermind.

"Regret. Only you could be so bold. The Veterans will not sit still for this. When they hear you've attacked a refugee settlement--"

From the pair of illusory eyes emerges a sinister form, twisted and gnarled - yet, a silvery white, a contrast to the depths of darkness that lurked within the twisted being. He seemed to repel light, even his incorporeal form having a profound effect on Arthur's surrounding. The world around him seemed to wither and grow dreary, the temperature dropping to the point where the Mystic Knight's breath was clearly visible. Was this yet another illusion? or was he trapped in the nightmare's nightmare?

"You haven't changed." Interjects the being.

"What are you talking about? You seem to have seen what happened down there. Do you really think I'd pull that kind of stunt again?"

The Regret casts an imposing shadow over Arthur, the dark silhouette contorting into... something else...

"Yes. Of course I do, Arthur. You are a human. You may deny it, but if anything, the chaos running through your veins only makes you more prone to err than any other human being. Chaos is essentially a byproduct of human demeanor... The endless greed and destruction of your race. It has become you, Mystic Knight. Beneath your philosophy and grief lies the very essence of human behavior. You may not realize it now, but soon, it will overpower you. In a moment of weakness, you will be overcome by greed, woe, and carnal lust. I will break you, and I will make you into something else. Something more.

Yours will not be an exclusive fate, though. You will be accompanied. And I will shatter each and every person you're travelling with. I already know how this will end. Every outcome, carefully calculated before my plan even was fully conceived. I knew of this meeting decades before you were even born. I have watched, and observed this world for ever so long... I already know the fates of the souls who will challenge me in my finest hour. I will break you, and your camaraderie. I will drive you all to madness, and I will make you turn on each other. And in the depths of pain and animosity, all you will have left is obedience towards your new master. Some relationships between your comrades may endure... But they will be negligible at best."

"Doubtful," he growls.

"Hah. It took mere days for you to so completely alter yourself. I will drive you to the depths of despair, you and all else. I will torture you, and at your weakest moment, you will break. At the depths of despair, you will do something insane. Something you will consider immoral now, but in the haze of pain, you will consider your finest decision. Do you want to hear what it is?"

Arthur continues his growl, fingers itching for a weapon he knew would not be there. He hadn't felt when his gear had left his form--or alternatively, when his form had left his gear--but he knew The Regret would not have left him with arms or armor with which to fight him, even if they would have been futile anyway. Nonetheless, he assumed a posture not unlike that he'd used in his last vision, the undersea fight against the Guardian: defensive, with knees bent, fists clenched, and head forward, eyes locked with The Regret's, ready to spring out of the way with a moment's notice. Then suddenly, he stopped, dropping his combat pose. He wasn't sure how, but he knew, somehow, it was what he had to do. "I don't need to fight you," he said bluntly. "I'm not your worst enemy--you are. It's a rule of this universe--those who try to take it, die trying. But maybe that's your plan--unable to die, you sought out the only conceivable way to end your eternal torment, by perishing at the hands of your greatest enemies. Because even if you succeed, you'll be alone, crushingly alone, no challenge, no camaraderie, no consolation. Command whoever you like to do whatever you like, and it won't mean a damn thing--everything, completely empty, forever. Even if you win, you lose." He raises his eyebrow. "What do you think--am I getting warmer?"

"How hollow, coming from someone who himself was on the brink of suicide. What you consider to be eternal damnation would be paradise. I could finally witness the world rebuild itself, repair itself after the damage your kind has wrought on it. You know, a Heroican once told me of a vision he had saw. A dead world, with nothing but metal spires piercing through the withered soil. That Heroican agreed with me, and my goals. To be able to prevent that future would be bliss. To see the world, unfettered by humans...

Why do you think I would turn to you if I wanted my ultimate demise? I have encountered foes leagues above anything you will ever achieve, and I crushed them - I am immortal. Undying, intertwined with this reality. There is no ending me.

But my intentions will be revealed when you prove yourself worthy... Which will be in all likelihood never.

Oh, and about your fighting stance - ineffective, by the way, as it allows me a clear shot at the nerve cluster at the bottom of your neck - You do not need to resort to fists. Tell me, Arthur, look at the world around you."

Arthur looks around his surroundings, seeing he is still at Triad's hill... even his weapons were still there.

"There never was an illusion. I have simply cast a shadow here, so to speak. How quickly your perception is shattered... So quick to think I would ensnare you, that you trapped yourself in an illusion. You've been in "reality" this entire time, deluded into thinking that your world was false at my merest appearance. I am holding a conversation in this form with a dozen other beings - You are hardly noteworthy. But how do you know when the illusion ends, and the world begins? You seem to like to making yourself the center of everything. Perhaps you've been a puppet dancing on the end of my strings this entire time, unwittingly? A child may think he escaped a bad dream, but only the nightmare knows where he begins and ends."

Arthur glanced around him, seeing indeed Triad's hill, his weapons, his gear still there...and yet somehow not. Before him, the image of The Regret changed and morphed into many forms, some he recognized, some he did not--Lord Belril, a gray-muzzled lupine figure, a bearded mountain of a man wearing a winged helm, Indiacca, Masson, Baba, Wren...the litany of images continued, but Arthur stopped paying attention--a more exciting truth had entered his mind. The Regret continued his monologue, completely unaware of what was happening--whatever this vision was, The Regret couldn't see it. Now even the world itself was shifting--the ancient Temple of Chaos, the top of a tower, a rubble-littered beach, and more and more. But what could it mean?

"You and me...we're not so different. If I'm trapped in an illusion, then so are you...the same one, in fact. The illusion that either of us can take the other."

"But you know--you may have gotten one thing right. I haven't changed--and neither have you. I'm still a Master of Chaos, you a Master of Order. Oh, I may have dabbled elsewhere since then, but let's face it--our fields of work aren't the sort to ever leave us. I still remember our first fight--we're too evenly matched, even now. But that won't always be the case. One day soon, I'll Regulate the Balance between our respective forces--"

"--it's a shame you won't get to see it. I will be a Regulator, some day. But I refuse to let you define who I am. So go ahead. Tell me what awful crime you think I'll commit. We'll see who's lost in fantasies."

"Equally matched? Unchanged? I see that words cannot penetrate through your skull unless they are accompanied by a blast of Ether. I abhor unneeded violence, but for the sake of clearing up any misconceptions..."

Without warning, shadowy claws erupt from the ground, grabbing Arthur's arms and legs and holding him still. He flinches at their touch, only to receive a discouraging jolt of ether for his resistance. With a single gesture, a corona of darkness appears from The Regret's hand, knocking the Mystic Knight skyward. As he descends, The Regret appears before him, grabbing him by the neck and pinching. The rest of his body falls limp, deprived of oxygen and being assaulted by the dark static flowing through The Regret's palm. Undaunted, the Mystic Knight lets himself go limp, but any choice he had in the matter was quickly ended by a swift jab to the back of Arthur's neck, the very same spot he mentioned he left exposed. The Regret begins to rant once again, punctuating his points by slamming Arthur onto the grave.

"Equally matched? You seem to have this delusion, Arthur. That you're the center of the world. That you're the one destined to stop me. You think you can even lay a finger on me now? I could take on the grand majority of your organization and still prevail, in my current state! The elements bow before me! The rest of the ethereal spectrum succumbs to me! Soon, even time itself will call me its master... You think you can stop my plans? You're not the hero. You're not even a hero. There are so many different transgressions you may commit, when you have lost all hope... You may perhaps try to separate the woman you crave from her true lover. You may wish for the truth behind your family, a truth I already know. You may wish for power, at the cost of another's life... You may wish for the sweet release of death, and will endanger another. You overestimate yourself severely, "hero"!"

With that final word, The Regret slams Arthur through Triad's grave, defiling the sacred place and leaving the Mystic Knight sprawled on a pile of rubble.

"A bit more brutal of a display then I intended, or perhaps that is a better alternative to a more elegant thrashing. A must bid you farewell, hero. Go on, tell your fellow Heroicans. It won't do a thing. There is no hope for you... Or anyone else."

The darkness faded, and Arthur knew The Regret was gone. His blood boiled, rage and grief mingling within him, until the pressure demanded release...

...and so he laughed. A grief-stricken laugh.

"No more than you, Regret. For I am Zoot's Rebel, and you... somehow, I - we - will defeat you." The Mystic Knight crushed his hand into a fist, and an inky liquid burst out, the spray of goo rising to engulf his hand, his arm, further--before fading into the surface of the "skin", melding seamlessly with what had once been flesh and bone. "Villains come and go, but I shall remain, for I am all I need. The Master of Chaos will learn Order, and I will hold both at bay. I swear it." He looks to the graves of Hans, Felton, Gnash, Bennetton, all cracked by the force of impact, as he rises from the hole. "I serve the Balance," he says simply, and in silence begins what repairs to the monuments he can.

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

Some time later, Arthur returns to the Hall. Nothing seems different--but yet everything has changed. Schezerade, busy cleaning a dish, jerks her head towards a pink package on the bar addressed to Arthur. Smiling, he opens it up--a letter and a gift from Ella. Not his style, but he was sure someone in the Hall would find it useful, for the right price.

His expression unreadable, he turns to the small group of Heroes who seemed to be paying attention to the world around them. "Anyone up for a bout in the Arena?" he asks. "Hybros? Em? Seargeant McEncy?"

Edited March 16, 2014 by Flipz

[Pyrovisionary]

Slightly drunk, his judgement rather blurred, Sarge looks up at the mention of his name. "Look 'o's back from being haunted. Yeah'right kid, I'll take yer on."

Edited March 16, 2014 by Pyrovisionary

[Flipz]

Arthur nods. "Let's train, then."

[Endgame]

A gaunt figure in a cape shambles into the hall, a tattered quill in hand. He approaches the quest board, choosing a mere two heroes before walking out:

Chosen Heroes for Quest #97: Infestation:

-Darksten (Comrade Commander)

-Hoang Anh (Hoanganhbeo)

A note is left:

Hail, heroes! I only have limitted time out of the Hovels, so I must keep this terse. meet me in the Hovels. You must pass through the Hovels wall first, but the Town watch shouldn't toruble you much. From there, I will be at the bench in the Hovels entry. See you tomorrow - prepare yourselves well.

-Isaac Flee

[JimBee]

"Around," I reply vaguely. "I have traveled to much of our known world. Not that it's been good to or for me."

I prepare to spit, but think better of it.

"Good? Well have you not learned anything? I have wandered the western part of this world for over half of a century, and there is much to be gained simply by traveling. I have even made it as far east as Xu once. Where do you come from?"

His expression unreadable, he turns to the small group of Heroes who seemed to be paying attention to the world around them. "Anyone up for a bout in the Arena?" he asks. "Hybros? Em? Seargeant McEncy?"

Hybros looked over to the young human, Arthur, who he initially thought to be a little strange. He waved and answered. "There is not much else to do around here, eheh. I will train with you in a little while."

[Comrade Commander]

A gaunt figure in a cape shambles into the hall, a tattered quill in hand. He approaches the quest board, choosing a mere two heroes before walking out:

As the guant figure departs, Darksten shoulders his crossbow and moves to the quest board hoping to see his name on the list of those selected. Relieved that it is indeed scribbled there, he throws a quick glance to the veteran heroes in the hall before walking out the front door.

"Soon I too can swap tales of valor, and the loot of my travels" he thinks to himself.

[hoanganhbeo]

Hoang Anh follows Darksten out of Heroica Hall.

[Palathadric]

"Good? Well have you not learned anything? I have wandered the western part of this world for over half of a century, and there is much to be gained simply by traveling. I have even made it as far east as Xu once. Where do you come from?"

"Much to be gained indeed, but not if one is not seeking for gain..." I trail off. Speaking to the demon was coming too naturally. What the devil was going on?

"I come from nowhere close to hear. Far, far away is the land from which I came. So far that i have next to no recollection of it, but I was sent here for a purpose and it is only in fulfilling that purpose that I will return to my home."

I look off, out one of the windows and into the distance as if seeing a vision of a faraway place.

"I have searched for that purpose," my voice raises in frustration, almost angry, "but alas, I find no answer. I have rid the world of plagues and saved many a human, but it's as if it's all not enough. For more than four hundred years I wandered this earth and still nothing. I do not even know if any of my own kind remain. I was not the first sent here and I was, from my reckoning at least, not the last either, but I have no idea how long it took the others to fulfill their missions or if they still dwell here somewhere, anywhere..."

I trail off again and slump into my seat.

[JimBee]

Hybros' eyes widened, more and more as the Paladin spoke. It was almost funny, looking into a mirror. "Hehehehe... Monk, it seems we are more alike than you ever thought possible. My story is the exact same as yours, if you wish to believe it. I came from... somewhere, too, though I am not sure exactly where. I do not remember it, or the people that lived in it. But I am here, and I have traveled Olegaia with the same questions in my head. How many like me have you seen in your travels? Not one, I am almost sure, eheh. I must find this place where I am from, though. Or else I would not be here, in Heroica, looking for it. I think you are here for the same reason." He poked Pretzel's arm. "...Have you found any sign of your people?"

[Palathadric]

"Hehehehe... Monk, it seems we are more alike than you ever thought possible. My story is the exact same as yours, if you wish to believe it. I came from... somewhere, too, though I am not sure exactly where. I do not remember it, or the people that lived in it. But I am here, and I have traveled Olegaia with the same questions in my head. How many like me have you seen in your travels? Not one, I am almost sure, eheh. I must find this place where I am from, though. Or else I would not be here, in Heroica, looking for it. I think you are here for the same reason." He poked Pretzel's arm. "...Have you found any sign of your people?"

Hearing Hybros speak, my face darkens. The moment of weakness is over.

"Well, I suppose the dark side attempts to adopt the methods God uses in sending his messengers to earth," I grumble. "As for you and your lot, I have met many. Demons abound in many spheres. There was another one even in Heroica whom I quested with. Little black being who seemed to think he knew a lot about life, but was so confused and deluded it was almost humorous. As far my kind it's hard to say being that we were made to resemble humans so closely. We do not bare the magnificence we used to. Of course, our power is great and in some places members of my kind were even accepted as deities due to their ethereal power, but they had to put down such talk. That is one of the reasons I gave up the power of the elements. There is too much evil there. A while back I met a whole creation of monsters that had been formed of ether. Ah, perverse and corrupt world!"

I slam a fist on the table, causing the table to jump.

[JimBee]

Hybros flinches a little as Pretzel slams his fist into the table.

"Well, I suppose the dark side attempts to adopt the methods God uses in sending his messengers to earth," I grumble.

"Heh! If so you say, Monk. The one you speak of is De'kra, I think. He is not the same as me, except maybe in your eyes. And magic you say, well... you voluntarily gave up such power? Interesting, eheh. What monsters do you speak of? There is this so-called evil everywhere, it is not necessarily the result of any particular magic. How do you know that your god is not responsible for any evil in this world?"

[Palathadric]

"Ah, yes, 'De'kra' it was. Odd name. Underworld! As far as those monsters are concerned though, one of them told me itself. Strange beasts. I think a couple of those in the hall at present had encounters with them as well. They were just conversing about one "Regret" who seems to be one of them. Apparently they were created by mages long ago to control the world or something. The problem with people doing such things is that they are tinkering with powers outside of their control. I have never seen such an experiment work out the way the original mage intends for it to. That is why we have undead abominations walking the world and monsters such as those. Originally the first mage who dabbled in the necromantic arts desired to bring life to dead loved one, if I'm not mistaken. Well, he did nothing more than animate the corpse. And an animated course is useful for nothing but the attraction of demons. The only man I know who challenged the necromantic arts and attempted to bring life by health was the Miracleworker himself. Brilliant fellow! He knew that magic would never bring life. So studied the arts of health. No worthless animated corpses, he tried to raise the dead so they would be whole in body, mind, and spirit, through the mere healing of the affliction that brought them to death. I have no idea whether he succeeded, but at least he had the right idea, and I believe that God may have looked on such work favorably."

As Hybros mentions God creating evil, my face clouds over again.

"God created evil. What a preposterous accusation! Foolishness. God did not create evil because evil is against God. God created a perfect world, but evil tries to corrupt it. Why would God want to destroy His most magnificent creation or throw imperfections in it in anyway? Evil is caused by those who hate Him and His creation or those who are foolishly led astray by the former."

[vangar graybeard]

Oilan walked slowly into Heroica Hall, and gazed at the large room. In his 300 years of traveling the world he had never stayed in one place for long maybe this would be the place.

[LordoftheNoobs]

Seeing a new hero arrive, Grimwald goes over to greet him.

"Hello there! Haven't seen you around before. My name is Grimwald, what's yours?"

[vangar graybeard]

I would like to sign up for the fields of glory.

Thank you Palathadric

Oilan graybeard at your service, Oilan said bowing low.

Edited March 21, 2014 by vangar graybeard

[Palathadric]

I would like to sign up for the fields of glory.

You need to put your sign-up in bold.

Seeing that the imp was not up to responding, I turn on my way and pass by the Unlimited Quest sign-up board.

No new quests, may as well.

I sign-up for the Unlimited Quest.

[joeshmoe554]

Jeaux approaches the quest board and signs his name under the Unlimited Quest.

[Emjajoas]

Em signs up for the Unlimited Quest.

[Bricksandparts]

Johon makes sure that he is signed up for the fields of glory.

[LordoftheNoobs]

Grimwald saw what all the cool kids were doing and also decided to sign up for the Unlimited Quest. He then went back to Oilan.

"Nice to meet you! I see we've both signed up for the fields of glory, should be fun enough."