Heroica RPG - Heroica Hall

[Duvors]

"I believe the Monk is quite capable of speaking for himself, sir. And cliche? That is your assault upon my efforts towards a better future? We are supposed to let whoever and their dog go off on this quest, simply because creating a group to combat this evil would be cliche? Shame, sir!

"No, trying to create a group to combat this evil when the choice ultimately falls to the Veterans who will not consult any of us in making their choice is futile. And I was referring to the wording, not the content."

You were on that quest! You yourself saw the "heroes for hire" cheerfully turn traitor for a few extra gold! You were one of the ones that tried to say no, and were overruled! You should be the one most loudly campaigning for this group, not I!"

"Correction, I was the only one, I wasn't even there when they did it, and there was nothing I could've done even if I was. But I do not feel the need to needlessly insert myself into a quest that I have no chance of being chosen for, and neither should you." Edited June 16, 2015 by Lord Duvors

[Lind Whisperer]

But I do not feel the need to needlessly insert myself into a quest that I have no chance of being chosen for, and neither should you."

"I'm not asking you to insert yourself - legally, you can't, #100 heroes ban. But that's no reason why you can't raise your voice in support of this."

"Correction, I was the only one, I wasn't even there when they did it, and there was nothing I could've done even if I was.

"Then that's even more reason for why you should be campaigning for this! Don't try and heal the sore! Prevent the sore from ever being made!"

[Kintobor]

Annienal looked up from her book, seemingly uninterested in the ensuing argument between Flynn and Throlar.

"If I, um, wanted to listen to someone try and enlist me, I'd go and listen to the Young Wolf Brigade picketing the streets." She comments to the white hooded individual beside her, not noticing his undead state.

[Duvors]

"Then that's even more reason for why you should be campaigning for this! Don't try and heal the sore! Prevent the sore from ever being made!"

"It's already been made, I'll just have to live with it, you don't have to, it's not your worry, but please don't make it worse for me. I'm content to let other people deal with this."

[Lind Whisperer]

I'm content to let other people deal with this."

The Munchkin threw up his hands. "I understand your feelings, but think about it! If everyone is "content to let other people deal with this," then it will never be done!"

[swils]

Thormanil growls and reaches for Lind's loose hanging collar.

"Sit down and shut up, foxer," he scoffs as he says the title, "There's plenty of us chompin' at the bit for a chance to end Baba, and you're a fool to think otherwise."

[Endgame]

"If I, um, wanted to listen to someone try and enlist me, I'd go and listen to the Young Wolf Brigade picketing the streets." She comments to the white hooded individual beside her, not noticing his undead state.

I turn to look at the young elf seated next to me. All she sees is a shimmering blue veil covering my face...

"I advise you don't. I hear the life insurance they offer is terrible, among many other things." I comment, my voice dripping with the fact that I knew a lot ore orrible things about the Wolfgang then that.

Thormanil growls and reaches for Lind's loose hanging collar.

"Sit down and shut up, foxer," he scoffs as he says the title, "There's plenty of us chompin' at the bit for a chance to end Baba, and you're a fool to think otherwise."

"Can't say I am. I want to tango with the leader himself, but Baba... Other heroes can do it. I'm more interested in seeing the Necropolis, or perhaps the Elder Dragon..."

[swils]

His thirst for vengeance boiling over his sense of tact, he turns on the new voice,

"Sightseeing be damned! Calling yourself a hero but backing down from this monster.. Bah!"

[Endgame]

"There is no place for an undead in Fenario. My presence would cause far less discord elsewhere."

[swils]

"Well, there's ways around that, y'know." he dons one of his masks, briefly appearing as an elf. "Besides, there's bigger things for them to worry about than how your bag of bones is still walking around."

[Endgame]

"Yes, but then I'd only be slightly better than Uncle Flind.

I share a vendetta against Ulric. He seduced my granddaughter with power -figuratively and literally. When the time comes to dispose of him, I will gladly gut him with this scythe. His songstress, though? I can't say I feel such a fervor. There are more powerful, more determined heroes than myself to take her on.

Meanwhile... I've really only met a handful of dead. Going to the Necropolis would be a... pilgrimage, of sorts."

[Lind Whisperer]

"Well, there's ways around that, y'know." he dons one of his masks, briefly appearing as an elf. "Besides, there's bigger things for them to worry about than how your bag of bones is still walking around."

The Munchkin's eyes gleamed as he saw the mask. "The Trickster's Mask of the Elf..."

He opened his mouth, and prepared to begin bargaining...then looking at the Dragoon, decided that such a man was not the sort.

"Everything has a price." He indicated towards the mask. "To rent, or to buy - just name it, whatever the cost. Yes, I am a bit light of purse at the moment, but speak with anyone who I've ever done business with - however much they may disagree with me politically, socially, or ethically, it does not matter - and they will have to confirm, even if reluctantly, that my bond is good."

[swils]

"Ulric? You mean to tell me someone's pulling Baba's strings? I'll just have to see about that myself."

Turning again to Lind, this time actually noticing his costume, he can't help but to laugh out loud. "Seems we're thinkin' the same way, though I don't think those rubber ears'll get you very far. As for the mask, sorry but I'll be takin' any advantage I can get over there, and if that means paradin' myself around as an elf, then so be it."

[Lind Whisperer]

Turning again to Lind, this time actually noticing his costume, he can't help but to laugh out loud. "Seems we're thinkin' the same way, though I don't think those rubber ears'll get you very far. As for the mask, sorry but I'll be takin' any advantage I can get over there, and if that means paradin' myself around as an elf, then so be it."

The Munchkin nodded. "Fully understood, and agreed with. I'd do the same.

But, in the case that you aren't selected, what'd be your price?"

[Endgame]

"Ulric? You mean to tell me someone's pulling Baba's strings? I'll just have to see about that myself."

"Or perhaps the other way around. No one knows, except maybe the two lovebirds themselves. Hmph."

[Kintobor]

Annienal watches a large man snap at Lind, grabbing the scruff of his collar and shouting at him. She notices his dragon, admiring the creature's elegance.

I turn to look at the young elf seated next to me. All she sees is a shimmering blue veil covering my face...

"I advise you don't. I hear the life insurance they offer is terrible, among many other things." I comment, my voice dripping with the fact that I knew a lot more horrible things about the Wolfgang then that.

"Oh? Well, I've only ran into them once, and they just seemed like a bunch of rowdy teenager looking for a purpose. Then again I was sort of like that, except less rowdy and more reclusive."

Annienal pulls out her notebook and begins jotting down the argument, trying to put her own spin on it, also taking in the man next to her recollecting the tale of his granddaughter being seduced and murdered.

"You said you were a grandfather? I guess that makes you rather old. Would you, um, mind me asking how old are you? I mean, with that veil it's a little hard to tell." She asks as politely as possible.

[swils]

"We can cross that bridge if we come to it."

[Lind Whisperer]

"There is no place for an undead in Fenario. My presence would cause far less discord elsewhere."

While waiting for the Dragoon to reply, the Munchkin leaned over towards the Undead. "I have just the thing for you - or, well, the second best...third best - Here, one second." He pulled out his Trickster's Mask of the Human. "The Trickster's Mask of the Human. Humanity in a can. Just put this on, and you're...still stereotyped against, since you're not an elf, but less stereotyped against than if you still looked like an undead."

[Kintobor]

While waiting for the Dragoon to reply, the Munchkin leaned over towards the Undead. "I have just the thing for you - or, well, the second best...third best - Here, one second." He pulled out his Trickster's Mask of the Human. "The Trickster's Mask of the Human. Humanity in a can. Just put this on, and you're...still stereotyped against, since you're not an elf, but less stereotyped against than if you still looked like an undead."

"Wouldn't that just make him look like an undead human?" Annienal questions. "I'm, um, still willing to buy it off you, if you're looking for cash."

[Endgame]

"You said you were a grandfather? I guess that makes you rather old. Would you, um, mind me asking how old are you? I mean, with that veil it's a little hard to tell." She asks as politely as possible.

"How to put this... grandfather is misnomer. It's missing a few "greats". She was, I believe, thirty... I'm, well. four hundred and twenty eight. Perhaps four hundred and twenty nine now, I lost track of how long ago Grogmas was..."

While waiting for the Dragoon to reply, the Munchkin leaned over towards the Undead. "I have just the thing for you - or, well, the second best...third best - Here, one second." He pulled out his Trickster's Mask of the Human. "The Trickster's Mask of the Human. Humanity in a can. Just put this on, and you're...still stereotyped against, since you're not an elf, but less stereotyped against than if you still looked like an undead."

Despite my face being obscured, I know there is an unmistakable aura of irritation and anger.

"I'm not subhuman, you twit. I AM human."

I can't recall the last time I was this caustic, but somehow what Lind was saying dug more deeply than being called a "monster" or "abomination"

[Lind Whisperer]

"Wouldn't that just make him look like an undead human?" Annienal questions. "I'm, um, still willing to buy it off you, if you're looking for cash."

"Oh...Yes. That is...a very good point.

I was more thinking along the lines of a rental for this particular quest, and you're already an elf, so, unless you're planning to go as a human, you probably don't need it..."

Despite my face being obscured, I know there is an unmistakable aura of irritation and anger.

"I'm not subhuman, you twit. I AM human."

I can't recall the last time I was this caustic, but somehow what Lind was saying dug more deeply than being called a "monster" or "abomination"

"Of course you're not subhuman. You're fully human, just undead. I was subconsciously assuming that the mask would make you look like a living living human, not a living undead human, which the elves would presumably respond to more favorably - their stereotypes, not mine. Annie pointed out the flaw in that logic..." Edited June 16, 2015 by Lind Whisperer

[Kintobor]

"How to put this... grandfather is misnomer. It's missing a few "greats". She was, I believe, thirty... I'm, well. four hundred and twenty eight. Perhaps four hundred and twenty nine now, I lost track of how long ago Grogmas was..."

"Oh, well... I see." Annienal twiddles her thumbs, trying to think of something to ask. The fact of the person sitting beside her being undead was beginning to crawl up her like a vine. She felt somewhat worried but thought it too rude to get up. "What's your opinion on dragons?"

"Oh...Yes. That is...a very good point.

I was more thinking along the lines of a rental for this particular quest, and you're already an elf, so, unless you're planning to go as a human, you probably don't need it..."

"I'm asking to buy it. You're, um, already human, so you won't need it, but I can put it to good use. 150 gold for it, and you get money to barter with." She looks into her pouch of coins and begins counting out 150 shinies.

[Flipz]

On the streets of Eubric, a lone figure, robed and armored, roams freely. For the first time in a long time, he felt free--free of the mad scramble for life, loot, and love that had been his Heroica life for so long.

And yet... he thinks, spotting a familiar Artisan running back and forth between the great stone Hall and the Marketplace, there are some things--some people--I still miss. He smiles wistfully and walks up to the massive doors leading into the interior, laying a loving hand upon their weathered surface. Perhaps it's time for that visit I promised the Veterans.

Arthur whistles, then shades his eyes with a hand as he scans the sky. Far above, a glint of gold glimmers and then grows as a splendidly-shining reptile soars to her Dragoon's call. She perches upon the man's shoulder, preening herself as she settles in--an unnecessary action, as each scale has already been polished to perfection. She sighs smoke into his ear, but it's clear the gesture is one of mischief and not malice. "<You called?>" she asks somewhat snootily in Draconic.

"I'm going inside. Want to come?"

Miirym considers her options for a moment. "<Perhaps. I sense something of interest inside. I make no promises of staying if I become bored.>"

Arthur chuckles at his partner. "Fair enough," he says, offering his arm out to allow her a more comfortable grip as he opens the doors and strides inside.

Within the walls of the Hall once more, Arthur marvels at how different the place feels as an outsider. Though still as warm and inviting as ever, so many of the things he had taken for granted now seemed fresh and unfamiliar, from the roaring hearth to the crest beneath the Quest board to the painted portraits of Heroes past and present. Even Scheherazade seemed new, despite her familiar face never having changed since the day he had first joined. The Dragoon took a deep breath before surveying the Hall, his gaze eventually settling upon another Dragoon like himself sitting not too far away. Miirym takes wing as soon as he starts to move.

"Thormanil!" he calls by way of greeting. "It's been too long. Glad you could be here for my last visit. How has Heroing been treating you?"

"Oh, well... I see." Annienal twiddles her thumbs, trying to think of something to ask. The fact of the person sitting beside her being undead was beginning to crawl up her like a vine. She felt somewhat worried but thought it too rude to get up. "What's your opinion on dragons?"

With an unerring sense of irony, Miirym alights upon the back of Annienal's chair, eying the elf curiously with beady reptilian eyes.

[Lind Whisperer]

"I'm asking to buy it. You're, um, already human, so you won't need it, but I can put it to good use. 150 gold for it, and you get money to barter with." She looks into her pouch of coins and begins counting out 150 shinies.

The Munchkin was about to say no - it was a rare item, after all, and rare items equal rare solutions - but then he saw a certain Dragoon enter the building.

"Hold that offer, just one moment, thank you very kindly and sincerely..."

Within the walls of the Hall once more, Arthur marvels at how different the place feels as an outsider. Though still as warm and inviting as ever, so many of the things he had taken for granted now seemed fresh and unfamiliar, from the roaring hearth to the crest beneath the Quest board to the painted portraits of Heroes past and present. Even Scheherazade seemed new, despite her familiar face never having changed since the day he had first joined.

The Munchkin quickly rushed to happily greet the first friendly face he'd ever known at the Hall.

"Sir Arthur! You're back!"

[swils]

"Thormanil!" he calls by way of greeting. "It's been too long. Glad you could be here for my last visit. How has Heroing been treating you?"

"Too long! I've, well, been lurking here. I needed to clear my head after nearly butchering an entire village in my last fiasco of an outing. And you? What's this about your last visit?"