Heroica RPG - Quest #53: Chaos in Eubric

[Flipz]

"Fate? Chance? There are no such things. The world treats me as the fool, but it should look at itself. Arthur, was that your name...? Weak men use those made up words to describe made up things to excuse their weaknesses." Zane spits. "The Master of Regret will love you. He preys on the weak, just as his sister does. Maybe that's why you seem to rub the Gray Wizard the wrong way. The Magician says he's the strongest of the bunch."

"Fate is a real thing, though it is never set in stone...everything has an end, and I, myself, tend to use that definition of the word. Our end is, ultimately, beyond the foresight of any of us...at least if we continue in the manner of half-revealed truths and suppressed secrets. And it will be our end if we continue forth blindly. And as to chance...well, it's clear you know nothing of the truth of Chaos. Even the surest of truths can be overturned by the unexpected, the safest of plans undone by the whims of the unpredictable...that is the truth of Chaos, the meaning of Chaos. To accept that everything is, at best, an educated gamble, and to be able to function even when the odds do not rest in your favor. I am but a novice, but you...you are less than that."

"Do not take me for a fool, Grey Wizard, because I do not pour my heart into the ears of my friends does not mean that I can only see things in the blunt way that they appear. You judge too much from what you can see on the surface. I have many things to say, but most I do not share, it is my way; I put on this act because it suits me. You did not know me before, I have changed, but on the inside I remain the same. I was much like Arthur, in many ways, irrational, weak, but that did not aid me in where I needed to go. I realise that you may not like this impression that I give, but it is just that, an act; it grants me respect from my friends and fear from my enemies. You see how I look, and when people see this, they expect something of me, I am just showing them what they are ready to hear. Sometimes I hate myself for this, I long to be myself, yet Haldor is a soft-minded man. Of course, I have much to regret, much indeed, but those are things best kept for my mind. Things I have not shared with even my closest friends, but it is still there, inside. I have never shared this with you before, Wizard, because I did not trust you to understand. Congratulations, you've cracked the shell."

"You long to be yourself? I am glad. There are some in this world who, at times, regret their very being, wishing they could be anyone but themselves. Have you never seen a man turn his own blade against himself? It is a terrible sight to behold, and one that may be seen far too often by those who happen to look. It pleases me more than you know that you are not one of those men."

"And perhaps you are wise not to share. I, myself, gave my whole history to my companions in the Hall, shortly before we left. It is quite the crushing blow to realize that, not only did they not give a damn about any of it, but some--" Arthur throws a glance at Thothwick in particular "--didn't even bother to listen to more than the first few words."

Alexis continues reading and walking, until she bumps into Arthur. "Oh sorry. Didn't see you there." She slips the book back into her bag. "Quite the building. Never noticed this before."

Arthur smiles, and takes the Evoker's hand as they descend into darkness. You, at least, have no expectation of me. You care not whether I am Master of Chaos or crackpot conjurer of a few spells. I hope my heart speaks to you in ways that my words cannot. A bit of Arthur's old strength returns to him in the presence of the Elf, and for a moment his frame is less bent.

<Master Arthur, if you believe you can contact the Spirit Pools, then you may tell me your tale. My mind is a buzz with noise, it would do me good to give me something to focus on.>

Arthur bows his head in concentration, drawing forth the memory into his mind. <I was in the Hall--Heroica Hall, that is--when suddenly I was overcome by a vision. I saw...I saw my homeland, and the silhouette of my father, a planewalker who has been missing for many years now, but it suddenly morphed into a hideous creature, with enormous claws and a great armored tail--a Progg. He spoke to me, calling himself The Regret. He...had enormous power, conjuring spires of flame the would take ten Heroes to sustain, and calling forth the spirits of the dead to surround me...a vast army, comprised of my own dead ancestors. He claimed to be a medium, you see, able to speak to the dead quite as clearly as the living, and somehow he knew things...about me...about my homeland...I know not how. But his words...his words struck me, as I will never forget...> Arthur allows the memory to fill his mind, for Vipera to see what had transpired...

"I'm sorry, is now not a good time?"

"Father?! Wha--? Who are you?!?" Arthur's hand strays toward his blade. "Why have you brought me here? What is your purpose?? I demand answers!"

You are in absolutely no position to demand anything, child.

Though, I suppose if I have taken time out of my day to mentally scar you, you deserve at least some answers. I am The Regret. I am what I suppose you can call "medium": I can speak and interact through the barriers that separate the land of the living and the land of the dead: The Infinite Featureless Plain, I suppose you people call it.

And please, do not attempt to reach for any form of weaponry.

Pointing a single claw at Arthur, a huge green spire of fire erupts from his hand. It zooms through the blank white space the two ether-users were suspended, stopping narrowly - an inch in front of Arthur's face. Despite this place not even seeming like it was existent, he could still feel the heat emanating from the fire. The Regret lowers his hands, the spire dissolving.

"This may just be a little illusion I conjured up for the purpose of speaking with you, but don't think I cannot hurt you. Here, my powers can run wild - they have no limits. A demonstration."

Raising both hands into the air, a series of silhouettes begin manifesting. Black, humanoid clouds of smoke, they appear one by one in a circle surrounding The Regret and Arthur. Dozens, then hundreds of the silhouettes surround the two. They all look in at Arthur with glowing, piercing eyes of varying colors, all of them watching the young mage. They begin walking closer and closer, forming a tight circle around Arthur - they all seemed so vaguely familiar to him. They begin reaching in, whispering his name... before they vanish. Looking back at The Regret, terrified, Arthur can see he had one claw raised in the air... most likely to call off the poltergeists.

"That, Arthur, was about just a few people who have ever died in your homeland. Zut'tau'ri is where you were born and bred, hm? For a land of such competent mages, you'd think they'd at least teach the poor little brat they brought into this brutal world how to use his gift... just sifting through the Plain, I can find many intriguing relatives of yours that could've taught you. The Ziegfrieds in particular seemed to be the best candidate, given your location..."

"The Zeigfrieds?" Arthur's singed brow furrowed in thought; he had considered studying with them when he first came to Eubric, but the secretive family had not offered many Quests in recent months--and in any event, his forays into Chaos were far more important...weren't they? "What gift do you speak of? And how do you know of my homeland?"

"So you don't even know. Why, it is the very reason that I took interest in you. Do you know that I can look deeper then the skin? I hardly ever look at anyone's outward appearance. I look deeper. I look at their essence. I look at their soul, so to speak. And yours was sending off some odd vibes. And your soul is an absolute mess, if I say so myself. It is a muddled mess of chaos, with a hint of anger and sealed by childhood tragedy. Most of you Heroica types have that brand of disgusting spirit in you, unfortunately. But you have something different about you. A power that emanates from your being, silently but surely. In fact, it is the very reason I took interest in you: you have very strong connections to the spirit pools. I thought you'd atleast be able to use it somewhat, but it appears you've lived in complete ignorance your entire life. That seems to be a common trait for your pitiful, verminous species...

It just takes a single glance at one's spirit to be able to match it with others. After I saw that odd power in you, I sifted through the infinite Features Plain, and found quite a few matches: the closest? Your father. My mind is a formidable thing, child: I am currently in participating in 10 conversations, 1 of them with you, 8 of them with my dead comrades, and 1 with the likes of your father. The dead glance over my shoulders day in and day out, as if they were backseat drivers.

Daddy says "hi", by the way."

"Father..." Arthur calls out mournfully, like a child. He hung his head in sorrow, his shoulders heaving. He...he's dead, then. Caroline was...right. His eyes brimming with the tears he tried so desperately to hold back, Arthur jerks his head up to meet The Regret's eyes. "Let me speak to him. Let me speak to him, and maybe I won't match my power against yours." They were brave words, but backed by fear and desperation, instead of true strength.

The Regret smiles under his shell wickedly. Perhaps they were getting somewhere...

Just as The Regret tried to speak, however, a change fell over Arthur. A pink light emanates from his eyes, seemingly evaporating the tears, its energy running down his spine, stiffening his posture, straightening and strengthening him. Arthur stretches out his arms, and his body begins to grow translucent, infused with a glow of energy, and a blobs of a black, ink-like substance begins to float upward from his hands, his shoulders, his head. Arthur's piercing gaze begins to pierce the Regret's illusion, and, seeing the other Heroes of the Hall, he reaches up...and removes his hat. He speaks again, his voice imbued with deadly seriousness. "When I was a child, my father, the Tur'gA or 'leader' of my village and noted planewalker, vanished without a trace. I had held for many years that he was alive, but stranded on some distant plane...and I suppose that, in a way, I was right."

"My father meant the world to me. He wasn't around much, but I knew he was off doing important things for our family, for our people, for the world. When my friends and I accidentally released Bio Beasts, monstrous creatures of machine, flesh, and Chaos, from the Temple of Zoot, he was the only person I even thought about telling, because I knew he could do something."

"A year or two after that, I found out--in the worst possible way--that he had been seduced by the foul Zeigfried witch Valentine, who was stealing the arcane knowledge and research my father had prepared for her own profit. A few months later, he disappeared--no, died--I find it likely to be at her hand. I was left alone, and my mother was forced to join the Guard to make ends meet. With Father gone, the noble families began to rule jointly once more, and jointly they systematically persecuted my family. Only Captain Spar'kell, his son Vaygas (one of my best childhood friends) and my other best friend Caroline Kootenai remained steadfastly by my side. As we reached the age of apprenticeship and Vaygas followed in the footsteps of his father, Caroline convinced her uncle Coe to allow me to work in the mines--not as menial a job as it is to most peoples, as we mined not for gold but for elements of arcane power, but still a step down from my father's craft and station. As time passed, Caroline and I grew closer, and we became lovers. When my Etherial powers began to come in, she was the only one I confided in--a grievous error on my part."

"You see, Caroline was a traitor--she had been cheating on me for the last year of our relationship, possibly longer, and had returned to the path of Chaos we had all sworn to disavow after that fateful day as children when we had broken into the Temple and nearly destroyed our homeland. She summoned a new Bio Beast, one that went on a rampage and slew three Guardsmen, including Vaygas' father. When I realized what she had done, I confronted her, and threatened to turn her in to the Elders. She...got there first, betraying the secret of my Etherial magic, and casting me as the manipulator of Chaos. Vaygas, now leader of the Guard, lead the noble families in exiling me, sending me to wander the world until I met my fate."

"For two years I wandered Olegaia, until I finally came to Eubric. Here I found new purpose, and I thought I could put my past behind me and start anew--but it was not meant to be. Even on my first Quest, I came into contact with strange forces beyond those that would be faced by an ordinary mage, and then in Dastan, I came into contact once more with the forces of Chaos, through Wren. Unable to suppress my heritage of Chaos any longer, I began to study her, her past, her present, even her possible fate. It was only when I embraced the Chaos that I found myself, that I found my place on the path so winding. Accepting my destiny in Chaos, I took part in my Quest to Haddon, where my secrets were revealed to the other Heroes, and to McColt, and the similarities between my path and that of Wren were not unnoticed. It was then that I saw my fate: to spread the knowledge of Chaos in this world, to help people live in harmony with this primal force that suffuses all existence. There is a beauty to Chaos, and until people can see it, the Chaos will devour their lives. Only through accepting the Chaotic nature of existence, through setting and seeking their Beacons in the Gray, can they live in true harmony with the universe. But this is no guarantee of goodness, for one must also live in harmony with others; the Lady accepts her nature and seeks her own beacon, but she desires the beauty of Chaos for only herself; she cares not for the strivings of lesser beings, and lives in harmony with none but herself. At once I saw the necessity of her existence, and the inevitability--no, the necessity-- of her fall."

"But I returned from this epiphany to more pain. Caroline appeared in Eubric--with the daughter that proved her infidelity. Vaygas, too, still holding the bitter belief that I had murdered his father. In part to avoid stagnation--but really more to escape the woman's endless pestering--I left on my most recent Quest, to aid the Ji Pei. There I met a man called Jules, a former devotee of Helvetia who had renounced his cult but accepted and embraced his past. Jules is, by far, one of the most honest, principled, and generally good people I have met in Eubric--and few in this wretched hive may be truthfully called "good." He, and I, are living proof that a darker path need not be one of evil, but that it may be proved a force for what is good in this world."

Arthur turns his gaze upon the illusory image of the sorcerous Progg, the vision solidifying once more. "Of course, my specific past is likely of little interest to you, creature of Ether, but you clearly know of my people's past. A tribe of Chaos of ancient antiquity, the plague of Bio Beasts sparked our interest in planewalking and of the technology of other worlds. Several generations ago, however, my people turned from their ways and shunned Zoot, relying instead upon the science they still serve today. The Temple of Zoot was sealed and its entrance lost, until Vaygas, Caroline and I rediscovered it as children. We each took a single artifact of Chaos from that ancient vault, she a Zoot's Plaything, he a Staff of Chaos, and I...I a Tome of Chaos, akin to that book other races know as the Pandemonicon. When we released a Bio Beast, we destroyed our artifacts, but the knowledge of that tome remained seared upon my brain, burned forever in mind. I could not forget--cannot forget--will never forget the secrets of power I learned. You see, Regret, I am born of Chaos, bound to Chaos, bequeathed to Chaos. I have power that you cannot imagine to taste, beyond anything you have or will ever know. Now, as I just said: let me speak to my father, and maybe I won't match my power against yours." From the raw energy emanating from Arthur in this realm, it was clear both sides would be matched in advantage.

That monologue was wholly unnecessary, but a delight to hear anyway.

I must admit, Arthur, I am impressed. A few minutes ago, I would've beaten you in a single blast... perhaps you have finally unlocked the power that made me interested in you. Bravo, truly. But you are inexperienced. You have just discovered this power, have you not? You think that just because you uncovered your full potential, or whatever cliched garbage you choose to believe in. Do you think any amount of epiphany will save you? Do you think a single catharsis is enough to fall any foe? You are as foolish as the principals you believe in. Chaos causes nothing but death. Do you think I enjoy having this ability, Arthur? Do you think that I take pleasure in the voices of dead being omnipresent in my mind? It is torture! UNENDING TORTURE! Nothing but pure, filthy chaos! For you to so quickly welcome such a despicable force into your soul... you are a fool, Arthur Justus Regulus VII. Order is the only true way to happiness... and that is why I now call myself The Regret. Ever since I chose this path, I have done nothing but wish I could undo my previous actions. The day I learn how to rip out this despicable piece of my being is the day all this suffering will finally end! And you, user of Chaos... I will not fulfill your pathetic request. Your father isn't even dead. I'm unsure how he got there, but I am not dragging him out just to satisfy a sniveling child who misses Daddy.

En garde!"

A battle erupts between the two sorcerers: one, a user of Choas... the other, a wielder of Order. The two forces incarnate stare each other in the face for a brief period of time before engaging in battle. Two radically different philosophies battling it out - both a beauty and a horror to behold. Arthur's fighting style was chaotic, to say the least. The human combatant was firing off shots of ether at a breakneck pace, both he and his projectiles zigging and zagging erratically. The Regret's style contrasted that of Arthur's in every manner possible: all of the Progg's moves were cold and calculated, his energy conserved waiting for the chance to let a powerful bolt loose at just the right moment. Indeed, The Regret was hardly even firing at all - the ether-born creature seemed content allowing his opponent to tire himself out. But it never happened. Arthur remained consistent, seemingly never running out of energy nor ether. Neither sides manage to land any substantial blows on their foes, The Regret getting increasingly agitated by this folly. The Regret speaks:

"I have wasted far too much ether and resources on you, child."

With that, The Regret suddenly rushes towards Arthur. Arthurs shoots a flurry of beams at the Progg, but he simply evades or swipes them away with his forearm. Closing the distance between the two, The Regret's claw lunges for Arthur's throat. Grabbing hold of the human sorcerer's wind-pipe, The Regret raises him aloft. His tail glows with an otherworldly hue of green, it's glow getting bright and brighter as The Regret speaks...

"Such talent wasted on Chaos. It is a shame.

Till' we meet again, Arthur."

With that, The Regret's tail lunges at Arthur's face in dazzling flash of black light.

As the The Regret's image begins to fade, Arthur forces himself to his feet for one last tirade. "You cannot defeat me, for Order is but the Chaos of Chaos. And Chaos is the universe. None can oppose me, unlesss they first oppose themselves. You cannot defeat me. Wren...Regret...there is a third "R" in Eubric. Regulus...it shall conquer both." His strength fades, the vision shatters to fragments...and Arthur is gone.

[Masked Builder]

Arthur smiles, and takes the Evoker's hand as they descend into darkness. You, at least, have no expectation of me. You care not whether I am Master of Chaos or crackpot conjurer of a few spells. I hope my heart speaks to you in ways that my words cannot. A bit of Arthur's old strength returns to him in the presence of the Elf, and for a moment his frame is less bent.

Alexis stops Arthur, wraps her arms around him, and kisses him. "This darkness is not to my liking. I wish whatever awaits us would confront us already." She says in a determined tone.

[Flipz]

Arthur smiles, and kisses Alexis back. "As do I, Alexis...as do I."

Edited January 17, 2013 by Flipz

[Waterbrick Down]

"I have been hoping to have a word with the two of you. I have been very busy reading those damned books, and have not had a chance to speak with nearly anyone. You two are some of my oldest allies. I must ask for your assistance for that reason. Skrall you speak wisely, as you always do. We are playing with fewer clues than ever, it seems. Why is that? I urge you to be careful. For all his madness, Zane speaks more reasonably than the Gray Wizard. He sees cracks in us, no doubt, but his half truths are better than the secrecy we have been receiving from the Gray Wizard. I have been both too trusting and not trusting enough in the past, yet still I find myself questioning him." Felton sighs and rubs his forehead with two hands. "When I was in my small town, I thought there was something greater for me to do out there in the big world. Now I know that there was, but it does not make my life any easier. Sometimes I wonder if ignorance is indeed bliss." Felton thinks briefly, and then his cutting voice comes back, hard and sure as ever. "Regardless, it is too late for that. We must keep our wits about us. Remember, Chaos is the way of the world, we can only, as Wren and Arthur always reminds us, direct the flow. Let us direct it smartly, heroes. I will share more words with you when we have more time, but I fear that we may be approaching this battle wrongly. I think perhaps now is the first time we've been on the right path. I am anxious to meet the Master of Regret."

"Perhaps we are more in the dark on certain points, because we would rather have it that way Felton. The world seems so much more confusing than it once did to me. There is no doing, because things must be done, anymore. Now we sit and ponder, reflect, meditate, contemplate on all of the intricacies and finer points of right, wrong, morality, ethics, why the stars move the way they do, so on and so forth. We speak of matters too deep and thoughts too high for us to fully ascertain. Men would rather think, than do, they would rather hide behind some sort of philosophy or learned understanding than face the real world. They would rather think up new names for atrocities, new reasons for why they occur, new mechanisms by which they might be understood or controlled rather than plant their foot down and take a stand for something here and now. Yes ignorance is bliss and knowledge despairing, but both are states of mind, of thought, of disposition, they are not of heart or will or of courage and it is these things that will hold us through to the end. Hold to that my friend, through whatever doubt and fears may besiege you, I too am intrigued by what new developments this Master of Regret may hold, but I do not look to him for the solution."

As the house materialized before the Party, Skrall gave a slight shiver, but mustered his courage. Whatever lay before the Party had to be endured, but at what cost he did not know.

[Zepher]

"So, the Master of Regret (and does that mean he regrets a lot of stuff?) is the Gray Wizard's brother, and they both have a sister? Who is their sister? And which two debts do you still have, and what are they and to whom?"

Zane looks Nyx up and down.

"You're the whelp Zee beat? No wonder. It would have been really nice if you'd killed her, but guess you couldn't manage. It's alright, I think you'll get another shot. Their sister isn't around, thank Oleg. I hear she's rather a bore in comparison to the two of them. Too sunshiny, head in the clouds. Doesn't really make smart choices. As for my debts... I owe one to Hoke, Skrall, Arthur and Haldor, and one to the Magician. They spared my life, and for her... a deal is a deal."

"The Master of Regret would like to introduce himself, I think. He has a certain flair."

"Congratulations, you've cracked the shell."

The Gray Wizard shakes his head sadly.

"Better I than him. Guard yourself carefully, Haldor. You are a good man, but you will fall prey to weakness if you are not careful."

We are closing in on a winding path... what I do know is this - things are changing, and I am honoured to fight at your side while they do.

"It is true we continue to grow, Dyric. We learn more with each passing day, about the world and ourselves. I am lucky to have such thoughtful allies. I too am pleased with the lot the gods have given us."

"Gods didn't give you diddley squat. You pick and choose your allies and your enemies."

Felton smiles shrewdly. "Perhaps you speak truly, Zane."

"Perhaps we are more in the dark... hold to that my friend, through whatever doubt and fears may besiege you, I too am intrigued by what new developments this Master of Regret may hold, but I do not look to him for the solution."

"This too is true, Skrall. Those who take responsibility for their actions leave them behind better. Where we have been has made us who we are. It is best not to forget, but best not to regret. The world is a beautiful place, and chaotic, and those two are mutual. The web is too intricate for us to see. That perhaps it what I aspire to, some day. Perhaps that is the final fate that Dyric spoke of for me. Perhaps one day I will get to see how everything effects everything, how our stands and actions and regrets and choices somehow become beautiful."

Then Felton shrugs. "It is, of course, equally possible my ultimate fate is to pick up all the vermin Zander kills. Or to clean the stables. After Wren, I do not know what I should do. What I can do. Surely not return to my town. I tried that while we prepared. I know too much for that now. Hans and McColt feel the same. We have grown much in a little time. I guess that is part of the beauty too."

"Fate is a real thing, though it is never set in stone...everything has an end, and I, myself, tend to use that definition of the word. Our end is, ultimately, beyond the foresight of any of us...at least if we continue in the manner of half-revealed truths and suppressed secrets. And it will be our end if we continue forth blindly. And as to chance...well, it's clear you know nothing of the truth of Chaos. Even the surest of truths can be overturned by the unexpected, the safest of plans undone by the whims of the unpredictable...that is the truth of Chaos, the meaning of Chaos. To accept that everything is, at best, an educated gamble, and to be able to function even when the odds do not rest in your favor. I am but a novice, but you...you are less than that."

Arthur bows his head in concentration, drawing forth the memory into his mind. <I was in the Hall--Heroica Hall, that is--when suddenly I was overcome by a vision. I saw...I saw my homeland, and the silhouette of my father, a planewalker who has been missing for many years now, but it suddenly morphed into a hideous creature, with enormous claws and a great armored tail--a Progg. He spoke to me, calling himself The Regret. He...had enormous power, conjuring spires of flame the would take ten Heroes to sustain, and calling forth the spirits of the dead to surround me...a vast army, comprised of my own dead ancestors. He claimed to be a medium, you see, able to speak to the dead quite as clearly as the living, and somehow he knew things...about me...about my homeland...I know not how. But his words...his words struck me, as I will never forget...> Arthur allows the memory to fill his mind, for Vipera to see what had transpired...

Zane simply shrugs.

"You're a long winded fellow, aren't you? I'm surprised you haven't died from lack of oxygen yet. You can think chaos is a thing all you like. It's no skin off my back if you don't take charge of your life. You live and die as you like. I owe you once, but that's all."

<I do not know that Regret, and do not hope to grow acquainted with him.>

"The two of them don't have anything in common more than their affinity for the dead." Zane stops suddenly. The stairs have taken the heroes to a small cavern. Ahead of them is a huge black door. The Gray Wizard steps forward alone and strokes the doors lovingly, bitterly. He turns back to the heroes and Vipera lands on his outstretched hand.

"Brace yourselves, heroes. I love my brother, in my own way, but he is dangerous." The Gray Wizard turns to Arthur, Haldor, Vipera and Felton each in turn. "Whatever he is, he is honest. I have not bothered to tell you what I am, but he most likely will. Keep an open mind heroes. I am sorry for the lies I have told you, and I hope you can still trust me after this."

Zane claps slowly. Zander laughs weakly.

"Hey, I know where we are! This is where we got to eat the dead people!!"

"Poetic." Zane shoves past the Gray Wizard and opens the door. The heroes step inside. A figure- more a shadow- stands before them. He looks ready to hug them.

"Heroes!!! Welcome, welcome to my humble abode! And my brother. How sweet of you to stop by. I was afraid that I wasn't going to get to see you! Oh, let me not forget my manners. Hello heroes, I am known by many names. The Master of Regret, King of Souls, The Fearsome Past, more than I can count, really. They're all equally sweet. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." The Master of Regret dips into an outrageously low bow. "How can I be of service? Any friend of my brother is a friend of mine."

"Hold off on your new friends. First, we have a deal. I brought you your brother. That's my half. Now you owe me."

"Oh, I was hoping you'd forget." The shadow pouts, but even so unfurls a huge scroll in one hand (appearing apparently out of nowhere) and it bursts into flames. Zane smiles and leans against a wall, suddenly at ease.

"Now, then, what can I do for you!

"You will hear me speak."

"Tsk, tsk tsk, brother. What happened to not becoming involved in human affairs? Let your heroes play with me for a short while, then we shall speak."

"You became involved."

"Oh, you're just sour because I backed a different group than you. Besides, it was you who originally told us not to get involved. I was the one who said we were no Council of the Watchful Eye. They aren't of this realm, we are. We're supposed to be involved."

"You can't help the Court. They mean to bring Zoot here."

"Better them then Wren. Or your heroes. Besides, they paid my price. A soul for a soul. That's my deal. Fair is fair, brother." The Master views the heroes. "Though some of you could feed me well. I'm sure my brother has been skimming off you. I'm surprised, brother, you don't back your protégée Wren. She feeds you better than heroes. Thinks in the moment, that one."

"Doesn't matter. I must remain above that. There is more at risk here than our hunger."

"Bah. We will make a deal shortly, and then your heroes will get to play a game with me, and perhaps make a deal or two of their own. But first, I have a tale of caution." The Shadow seems to smile maliciously. "Would you like to hear the tale of the Court of Demons, and how it came to be?"

Zane suddenly stops leaning against the wall and grows a little tense. Zander's eyes light up.

"Would we?!"

"Not you, Zander. You've already made a deal with me, you have nothing left to offer. But the heroes..." the Master licks his lips greedily. "We will make a number of deals before the night is out, heroes. You and I and my brother. But I'm a fair immortal. Tell me what you'll offer for the story, and I'll see if it is to my liking. Doesn't have to be much. We'll play the higher risk games later. This is just a taste."

[CMP]

Atramor looked around, seemingly unfazed by the temple, but yet felt quite uneasy in it. His eyes turned onto the black being.

"What're we s'post to 'offer'?"

[The Legonater]

"Not you, Zander. You've already made a deal with me, you have nothing left to offer. But the heroes..." the Master licks his lips greedily. "We will make a number of deals before the night is out, heroes. You and I and my brother. But I'm a fair immortal. Tell me what you'll offer for the story, and I'll see if it is to my liking. Doesn't have to be much. We'll play the higher risk games later. This is just a taste."

Anyone have an Eye of the Beholder we can borrow?

[UsernameMDM]

Hoke brow slightly furrows as Vipera alights upon the Gray Wizard's shoulder. He can't help but feel a little betrayed, especially since his mistrust of the wizard just grew tremendously after hearing the exchange between the brothers.

Sensing that action may take place soon, Hoke switches some gear around and equips the Cultist Hat in place of the Cloak of Deception.

[CorneliusMurdock]

It is an offering, "Master of Regret" wants? Cronk offers one Stake (WP: 1). It is nice and pointy.

Or is "Master of Regret" speaking of something else entirely?

Gray Wizard, what exactly are Wizard and family?

[Flipz]

Arthur stares mistrustfully towards the two brothers. He whispers to Alexis. "Alexis, stay close, be ready to run." He turns to Dyric. "Dyric, my friend, I think I would like to hold onto that die for a while, at least until the end of the Quest." He again offers Dyric the Scarf of misfortune, and also quietly passes the Ancient Crown back to Atramor. "Hoke, if you feel that my cloak will be less useable than your hat, then I'd like to wear the cloak for the time being."

"How about a tale for a tale? I've told my own enough times lately that even I'm sick of it, but I'm willing to slog through my own painful past yet again if it'd help us. If mine isn't to your liking, there's a fair number of other Heroes here with stories to tell, I'm sure one of them'd be happy to share. Dyric or Haldor, perhaps?"

[Zepher]

The Gray Wizard opens his mouth, but the Master of Regret holds up a finger to stop him.

"That is a story I shall tell later. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. One thing as a time." The Master of Regret takes the stake and looks at it. "This will serve. Here." The Master of Regret dips the stick in one of the huge basins next to him and then returns it to Cronk. "A gift. For something lost."

Cronk receives the gift as the Master begins his tale (Pointy Bloody Stick II (WP: 1)).

"Once upon a time in the city of Eubric there was a poor little sad girl. She was all alone in a big city with no friends. Her parents had died a short while ago, and she herself had been subject to many cruelties that I will not tell you now. Sparing the young ones. One day, the little girl decided to take revenge on the city by becoming more powerful than it. More impressive. She decided to outlive it. She prayed to the Gods, but they would not answer. They aren't here, on Olegia. But she remembered her mother telling her that her great-grandmother had once prayed to Older Gods, Gods who walked the Earth and fed on human emotion. They harvested the most powerful thing that humans put out. Desire. They swallowed it up. Because they did this, humans did not always get what they desired. The Old Gods were believed in because people realized the energy they put out into the world did not return to them always."

"So the girl looked for the Old Gods, and eventually she read of them - the Mother of Hope, called other names in other lands, the Master of Regret, called other things in other lands, and the most powerful and important of them all, the Harvester of Passion. She set out to look for them- and sometimes when someone desires something long enough, the Gods find them."

"The girl's desire was in the form of Regret, and so it was the Master who tracked her down and made her a deal. If she wished to outlive the city, she must feed him. So she went out and gathered four people to him, and he made them each a deal. He would eat their regretful desire, and when they died he would receive their souls, the Master of Regret loves souls, they are always regretful. In return, the four would get something they desired- whatever they desired the most. The young woman told them of the deal, and the implications. They would owe her for bringing them to the Master of Regret, and they would owe the Master their souls when they passed away. She neglected to tell them that there was another plan in motion."

"The Master of Regret is wise and wilily. He decided to trick the four, to further add to their regret. Their contracts with him they regretted almost immediately. But the powers they gained were the worst. The young woman knew what would become of them, and as a deal to not warn the four, she was promised eternal life."

"The young man named Jonah went first. Jonah had once been a young member of the Paladin Order, but when he saw the Lightness killing many, his young mind snapped and he hoped for only the death of everything. His brain grew savage. He asked for the power to end life quickly, and he received it. The Master of Regret had snagged a scrap of Zed's soul as he fled this life, and a piece of Abaraxas' power with it. He infused them into the boy. Jonah became Zander, and his glee for death increased ten fold, as did his ability to implement it. He was driven mad in the process. The little part of Jonah that remains, tucked somewhere inside Jonah... he regrets that very much. I can feel it."

"Jonah had already been so insane, his decline in mental state did not warn the others. The next to go was a young woman named Beatrice. She was a devote worshipper of Zoot, and wished to see him rise on Olegia. I gave her the scraps of Sycamore I had. The two were too strong willed for each other, and they ate each other up. Zee was born."

"An old man named Nestor hoped for greatness- a place in history. He was too proud. He saw Beatrice's destruction, but he was sure he could master the great demon Mephisto. I gave him but a small sliver, the only part not banished back to Zoot. His man was eaten quickly, and Mephisto, or a perversion of him at least, was reborn."

"The final member of the four, a young Orc freed from slavery through the sweat on his own brow watched the others and planned. He warned Nestor to not take Mephisto, but Nestor did not listen."

"I told him that the eater of souls was not likely to share a body," Zane tells them with a shrug.

"The Orc conferred with the young woman and learned of her plan. For her advice he offered her a favor. She granted her counsel, and when the Orc's turn came, he begged that I give him bite size morsels of many souls, so that he may gain many powers, but that they would not overwhelm him. He consumed a soul that taught him to use ether, a soul that gave him access to the Spirit Pools, one that taught him combat, one that taught him to conjure things from thin air, another that taught him to rhyme, and yet another that taught him how to see glimpses of the future and past. He was the strongest of the four, but the others did not include him. They called him the Fool."

"Me in particular," brags Zander. "He is a fool. So weak. He has all the powers, but such small amounts of it. What's the point? What can he do? I fought him after we left, to show the others how weak he was. It was great. I burned his chest permanently. He still can't breath right. He's just lucky I let him live. Mephisto told me I had to, because Mephisto had found him and brought him before the Magician and so Zane still owed him a favor."

Zane bares his teeth and his eyes droop menacingly. "You are the fool, Zander. Not I. You gave up control of yourself. What good comes of that? It was terrifying to walk in a room knowing you'd emerge out the other side another person. You died, in a small way. All four of us were brave, but only three of us were foolish. What use is passion without brains?"

"But why not back Wren?" asks Felton suddenly. "I do not wish for you to, but I must understand."

The Master of Regret looks at Felton sadly. "You belong to my brother. Too smart for me by a long shot. It is too bad. You have much desire- for greatness, for understanding... but they are not regrets, nor are they hopes. You live now."

"That does not answer my question."

"Wren does not serve any of us. She has desire enough, both regret for her past, hopes for her future, and she most certainly lives in the passionate and active now. But what she strives to do... I will not stop her. It is very likely it leads to regret. But if it doesn't. If she becomes the new God of Chaos, and reigns forever upon her throne- she means to break the balance. There is some order in the universe. We consume some of the desire, but much of it does come back. Those who hope receive some of what they hope for, those who are passionate live in that passion, and some who regret will drink the bittersweet feeling and be bettered for it. We are not cruel, none of us. I do not stand against Wren, but I do not stand for her. If anyone should, it is my brother. He once loved her as a child. She has more passion than anyone I have met. She could keep him alive forever, especially if she becomes Queen of Chaos and puts out passion forever. You must ask him why he does not side with her, not me."

"I do not side with her because I am of the Old Gods. I am Passion, and I will not allow her to destroy the passion of others for herself. It is as I say- Passion is gray. All passion helps some, and hurts others. But I myself, as Harvester of Passion, feel it stronger than most. And she does not deserve to be Queen of Chaos. She will destroy the passion of too many others. This is something I feel passion for. And brother, we must know where to find Mephisto. If he has the soul of Mephisto, he knows all the ways into the Temple."

"That he does, brother. But I will not give him up willingly. He paid me his dues. You must do the same if you want him."

"What do you propose?"

"What do I always propose? A game and a deal. A soul for a soul. Fair is fair."

"What are the terms?"

"Xjep vje Fasl Mafz donet gos zou, zou nutv ammox jes vo vale zou. That will be regret enough for me. Your mortal must also win the location in a fair contest in which you may not help."

"Fope. If it must be so."

"Are you ready for a game of riddles then, heroes? I do love riddles."

[CMP]

Atramor leaned against a nearby wall, listening intently - quite intently - to Regret's tale. It was surprisingly similar to those he'd heard time and time again in taverns he frequented in Dreida. Person seeks power, is gifted it by a questionable source, power consumes them...he'd never taken such stories seriously, but now? Now they were in a mess of those people....among gods. His stomach twisted into a knot at the thought. It certainly explained the Gray Wizard's behavior, and Atramor's natural hostility towards him. There was always somebody. Somebody stronger, somebody greater, somebody who in the end was pulling the strings behind everything. He found his thoughts drifting to Zane. Perhaps...

...Did he have the right idea?

He frowned deeply to himself. McCafferey seemed...more delighted than she ever had. It was extremely off-putting. At last, Atramor looked up at Regret.

"...I don't think we have much of a choice."

He turned his head sideways towards Cronk, awaiting his party leader's decision.

[Flipz]

Arthur closes his eyes gently, as some arcane bit of knowledge within his mind, seared there by the ancient Tome, activates. The language of the Old Gods unfolds within his mind like a carefully-preserved tapestry, open for his perusal. He responds, directing his gaze to the Master of Regret. "Wesz xemm, vjep, Apdiepv Ope. Cehip zous djammephe."

Turning to Gray, he adds, "Vje tuqqosv og zous titves xoumf ce notv xemdone av vjit vine, gos ne pov vje meatv og ut. Xjese dap xe gipf jes?"

Edited January 17, 2013 by Flipz

[UsernameMDM]

"Hoke, if you feel that my cloak will be less useable than your hat, then I'd like to wear the cloak for the time being."

Hoke slowly pulls the cloak out of his pack and hands it to Arthur, all the while keeping a sharp watch and ear on the conversation at hand. Somehow, he is not surprised at what is said.

Hoke returns the Cloak of Deception to Arthur.

[CorneliusMurdock]

Perhaps if the rules were to be clarified beforehand, in common tongue, beings might work something out. But despite Wizard agreeing, Cronk will not play without knowing rules in advance. What were the terms?

[CorneliusMurdock]

After thinking about words, Cronk know realizes deal was between brothers, and even though Cronk does not feel that Wizard should have agreed, Cronk will respect that.

But the game involves party and needs rules. What are they?

[Scorpiox]

Haldor stepped forward after gathering his thoughts for a moment. Speaking purposefully, he uttered:

"J bn qsfqbsfe gps xibufwfs zpv xjmm uispx bu nf, Nbtufs pg Sfhsfu, xf xjmm tff kvtu ipx xfmm zpv dbo qmbz. Bring it on, whatever you are."

[Pandora]

Zane looks Nyx up and down.

"You're the whelp Zee beat? No wonder. It would have been really nice if you'd killed her, but guess you couldn't manage."

"Yeah yeah yeah" Nyx mutters as she trudges away "I'm just a weak, defenseless little girl, whatever, think what you like, hog's breath."

"Xjep vje Fasl Mafz donet gos zou, zou nutv ammox jes vo vale zou. That will be regret enough for me. Your mortal must also win the location in a fair contest in which you may not help."

"Uhm s'cuse me, hi, Master of Regret, hi there. Uhm, just out of interest, your terms, do they just relate to your brother or do they relate to all of us? I mean, who would the dark lady be coming for? And who is she, is she your sister? Sorry to interrupt, do carry on with all the serious portents of doom and so on. "

[Waterbrick Down]

"Great, elder gods now," Skrall closed his eyes trying to soak everything in. Why couldn't folks leave well enough alone. Why did they always have to make things so complicated. The ogre bumped Haldor, and silently whispered to the Nord, "Translation chap? You religious types might go in fer the archaic back and forth, but the rest of us are simple minded sword-and-boarders. What's this about a game?"

Edited January 17, 2013 by Waterbrick Down

[Scorpiox]

"Great, elder gods now," Skrall closed his eyes trying to soak everything in. Why couldn't folks leave well enough alone. Why did they always have to make things so complicated. The ogre bumped Haldor, and silently whispered to the Nord, "Translation chap? You religious types might go in fer the archaic back and forth, but the rest of us are simple minded sword-and-boarders. What's this about a game?"

Haldor silently whispered back.

"Just something I learnt back home, they used something similar in the scriptures that I used to read. The Regret says that 'when the dark lady comes for us, we must let her take us'. Whatever the hell that means. I'll let you know if anything comes up of interest."

[Waterbrick Down]

Haldor silently whispered back.

"Just something I learnt back home, they used something similar in the scriptures that I used to read. The Regret says that 'when the dark lady comes for us, we must let her take us'. Whatever the hell that means. I'll let you know if anything comes up of interest."

"Got it. Dark lady, sounds like Wren. Ya think she's comin' here? That story of his is soundin' familiar to another we heard about some young girl, ya think Wren made some sort of deal with this shadow? Or perhaps it was that magician people keep bringin' up."

[UsernameMDM]

Haldor silently whispered back.

"Just something I learnt back home, they used something similar in the scriptures that I used to read. The Regret says that 'when the dark lady comes for us, we must let her take us'."

Hoke leans into the conversation.

"That sounds like a terrible idea," he whispered

[CMP]

Atramor turns at Skrall's thoughts, blinked, and nodded a bit.

"Aye, it fits that this girl is the Magician we're fightin' against now."

​"And I hope Gray wasn't speakin' about us, 'cuz he'll be sorely disappointed."

Edited January 17, 2013 by CallMePie

[Zepher]

"I am giving up one soul, Mephisto, so I only require one soul. That will be payment enough. You don't have to give me anything else, that term has been met. You do have to solve the riddles first though. That's a fun game for me."

"As for all this speaking in our tongue... we've shown we can speak common. Why not just do that. Our ancient tongue is used only when a deal must be made between us."

"The Dark Lady is indeed Wren. My brother knows why he must do what he must do. Perhaps he will tell you, perhaps he will not. I will leave that up to you."

"There is one more stimulation. Before I give you the location, you sort of have to become a member of the Court of Demons. Sorry, but that's how it goes. I made a deal with Mephisto that I wouldn't tell anyone who wasn't in the Court. But joining is easy enough. You must swear to be a member... and that's it. Well, there is a little more, actually. By becoming a member of the Court, you will be briefly leaving service in Heroica. You'll be free lance. Which means you'll be outside the Falconer's protection. You see, Heroica, just like the Court of Demons and many other ancient organizations, has some old magic worked into its seams. You'll notice that most always when you could be killed, you aren't. This isn't because your enemies are infatuated with you- this is because the Hall protects the lives of its own. Sometimes someone slips through the cracks, but mostly... regardless, by denouncing the Hall and accepting the Court of Demons, you will be putting yourself in harm's way. Say the word, and I'll induct you, give you the riddle, and then give you the location."

OoC: Once you have all agreed to the terms, you will be able to be perma-KO.

[Masked Builder]

Alexis grabs Arthur's hand, as the rules end. "Well, if there's no other way to fight Wren, I will do what must be done."