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Heroica RPG - Heroica Hall

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Now that Althior has heard rumors that he could sign up for multiple quests, he also puts his name in for quest #2. He also puts he would rather participate in quest #3.

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Atramor looked over at the barbarian on the stool next to him. Joy, a gigantic hulking hunk of muscle. Well, it's a barbarian. What else were they but that? As he did, McCaffery flapped angrily and landed on his hat, once again.

"Well, you're a barbarian. All food is good to you. How else would you guys grow to the size of cows?" he replied tonelessly.

Atramor's hand drifts toward his pocket, where his Venom is kept. It'd be worth the 5 Gold, surely. He'd rather save it for monsters, though.

Eric raised an eyebrow, his smirk sinking away. His pale face was again devoid of emotion. "I don't take kindly to insults, dumbom. Beware, Rogue..."

Eric angrily stared at Atramor, refusing to blink. Had his cold blue eyes been able to shoot lightning, they would've certainly roasted Atramor.

Suddenly, the semi-angry, but definitely greatly annoyed look on Eric's face cleared up and a smile once again started to circle his mouth. He chuckled and murmured something Norse again: "Jag gillar dig, Rogue. Feisty and fighting fit. Mitt namn är Eric. What's your name?"

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Non facciamoci ragazzi brutti o entrambi avranno una sorpresa, dal mio mantello viola.

Let's not get ugly guys, or both will get a surprise, from my purple cloak.

*Glances back at hidden folds of purple cloak, and the crossbow slung over back.*

Now, what are you guys doing here? *In conversational tone of voice*

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Althior Emorith went back to the saloon and saw an arguement ignite between a huge barbarian and the dork with the chicken on his head. As cocky as Althior was, he did have some common sense.

"Gentlemen please. We're all heroes here, none better than the other. Let's not start picking fights."

Before the two could pummel Althior, he casually walked to the seat next to Signor Bacari. He rested his hand on his wand, in case things did get ugly.

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Hello all. I am Alexis Fenral, a ranger. I'm ready to depart for my first quest, as soon as I decide which one.

img_5188.jpg

Alexis Fenral 18 year old Female Elf

Power: 4 Health: 6 Gold: 10 Level: 1 Ranger

Inventory: Longbow (WP: 3), Smoke Bomb (1), Potion (1)

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Atramor stared fake-vacantly back at the barbarian, and was slightly surprised when he seemed to back off. Barbarians did put much by strength, whether physical or mental, but to back off of a fight they could easily smash with one punch to the face? He seemed to have come across a reasonable barbarian.

"I am Atramor Gibbin. And I guess if we did fight this saloon would be a pile of splinters and devoid of all Gold." He grinned slightly. "I come from Dreida Bay, specifically from a few gamblers and part-time pirates. I assume you're from up North."

McCaffery did not cease her seemingly glaring at Eric from atop Atramor's hat. But it's kind of hard to tell. Since again, she's a chicken...

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Althior eased his hand off his wand. His shoulders sagged, he threw his head back and sighed. Althior never liked getting into trouble. unless he knew what he signed up for. (Literally or figuratively) Althior then bid the men adieu, and then walked out of the saloon in a hurry.

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"No, honest to god, it happened!" laughed Lord Lawrence Boomingham. The two ladies, who had introduced themselves as Shadina and Nyx, on either side laughed, either with him or at him, it really didn't matter to him.

IMG_1583.jpg

"Another round for these two ladies! No, you know what, another round for everybody!" roared Lord Boomingham. He had no money. He was entirely unsure of how he was going to pay for the drinks, but that didn't matter right now because he had two beautiful ladies on either side.

"I was once a King," he told them. "Of a very old kingdom. Sadly, I ran into a little trouble with the Ziegfrieds. They locked me away for a few hundred years, and to me it just seemed like a quick nap in another dimension. When I hopped out, my kingdom was gone, people had gone on a very quick exodus or something, and all they left behind was a few ruins, and all the treasure. At first I felt quilty as all hell, but then I figured it wasn't my fault, you know? And anyway... I had a lot of gold and no kingdom to spend it on. So I found me a missus and married, and now I'm exploring a new world." This was all true. It was Lord Boomingham's only good story.

Lord Boomingham saw an Orc in armor walk by. He glared at it. "The filth they let in here," he growled, "I thought this was founded to stop the Orcs, not allow them in. I fought in the Orcish War you know. Right before the Ziegfrieds got me. I was 22 when they sealed me away. Now I'm 44 years old, though I was born 294 years ago." He chuckled. This was also all true.

Lord Boomingham had spent all of his money, quite by accident, on wooing ladies and buying drink. His wife, whom he truly loved dearly, was not pleased about either. So he had traveled to Eurobric. Lord Boomingham was a large man. He had a booming laugh and voice. His three great loves in the world were drink, women, and his wife. He genuinely liked everyone, save the Orcs and perhaps a few mages. He had indeed fought in the Orc War and had not trusted an Orc since. The Ziegfrieds had locked him away, but he figured they must have had their reasons to lock him away and honestly, it had been the best struck of luck he had come across in his whole life. Lord Boomingham was ambitious as well, and didn't mind a little social climbing.

"I'm going to sign up for Quest #2: Looking Through the Wares. Never bad to get it in with an influential family! The farmer won't do us any good and I'm not sure how the Ziegfrieds feel about me... What do you ladies think? Either of you want to accompany me?" He smiled and laughed.

IMG_1581-1.jpg

Lord Lawrence Boomingham, Level 1 Knight

44 years old Male Human

Power: 4 Health: 10/10 Gold: 10

Inventory: Longsword (WP: 3), Shield (SP: 2)

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EDIT: COPY/DOUBLE POST????

Hello all. I am Alexis Fenral, a ranger. I'm ready to depart for my first quest, as soon as I decide which one.

Oohh, another elf ranger. *cough* sign up for quest 2 *cough**cough*

And for all wondering, I come from a small town to the south, were I learned survival skills and street wits. Now, excuse me as I get some food.

Edited by Capt.JohnPaul

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There is a thump as the door is kicked open. A human walks in with a large sword slung over her shoulder.

“Barkeep, an Ale, I assuredly need ale”.

Slumping against the a far corner of the saloon the barbarian woman leans her sword against the table.

“Aye, they said it would take a twoday to walk into the city, they said it would take a lass a threeday. Ha! I took less than a day!”

“I knew that those midhigh villages were full of twpbobl . I Tesni, last of the Hightribe proved them wrong!”

tesni1.jpg

"Are all the quest places filled?"

She stands again to check to quest board.

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Atramor stared fake-vacantly back at the barbarian, and was slightly surprised when he seemed to back off. Barbarians did put much by strength, whether physical or mental, but to back off of a fight they could easily smash with one punch to the face? He seemed to have come across a reasonable barbarian.

"I am Atramor Gibbin. And I guess if we did fight this saloon would be a pile of splinters and devoid of all Gold." He grinned slightly. "I come from Dreida Bay, specifically from a few gamblers and part-time pirates. I assume you're from up North."

McCaffery did not cease her seemingly glaring at Eric from atop Atramor's hat. But it's kind of hard to tell. Since again, she's a chicken...

Eric nodded affirmitavely. "Aye, I come from the high North. Pirates, you say? We will get along just fine"

A booming laugh resonated through the saloon. Both Eric and Atramor slowly looked over their shoulders. At a table at the far end of the saloon, Eric spotted the source of all the laughter. An elderly fellow flanked by two women was seemingly enjoying himself. Eric detested the man already. He cared little for boasters and show-offs, he prefered living proof and great action to boastful talk and tall-tales. He gladly accepted the beer the guy bought him, though.

The saloon was getting too crowded for Eric's liking. He hated to be locked up in an enclosed space and he especially hated it when, on top of the space being enclosed, it was also filled to the brim with people. Eric didn't liked being touched by strangers at all, be it accidentally or purposely. He longed for combat and adventure and craved to be in the outdoors again, or on the rough sea sailing his longboat. He longed for his homelands and despised the South, its people and its silly customs. But deep inside, he knew he couldn't return North again, for he wasn't welcome at home anymore.

He got off his chair and nodded farewell to Atramor as is customary and polite, even though Eric couldn't care less for customs or being polite. He strode to the exit, pushing all those who stood in his way and glaring angrily at all who crossed his path.

When he finally did get outside, he saw a Mage running around in a hurry. Eric sighed and looked up at the stars. Being in touch with his forefathers always eased his mind.

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^LOL!^ EDIT: meaning Peppermint_M, reminds me of collectible minifigrue cave woman.

*notices the person beside me,even though he was seen already, nothing escapes Bacari's sight, like a hawk.*

Althior Emorith, so what brings you here, and in here, meaning by me? Just always suspicious, something I learned is a good trait to have. Perhaps I'm neutral between the barbarian and chicken head?

Edited by Capt.JohnPaul

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"All this noise! What I wouldn't give to be back at the goddesses' temple" Tesni muttered, barging a path through the crowd to the quest board.

"Ah, this Harvest Time looks to require someone like me."

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Slumping against the a far corner of the saloon the barbarian woman leans her sword against the table.

“Aye, they said it would take a twoday to walk into the city, they said it would take a lass a threeday. Ha! I took less than a day!”

“I knew that those midhigh villages were full of twpbobl . I Tesni, last of the Hightribe proved them wrong!”

Ellaria watched in horror as the barbarian lady sat to her table, shouting orders at Scheherazade. She was just about to ask how the woman could have walked to Eubric - it was on an island after all - but the barbarian was already back on her feet and stomping towards the Quest Board.

Ellaria reminded herself never to get in that woman's way.

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Having examined the board, Tesni looks down sheepishly at the gathering pile of wet salty sand at her feet, she looks around and with a delicate motion some thought barbarians incapable of, slides the sand to the edge of the room

"No soul shall notice that, every bar has sand to catch the slops... I was not going to stay in that tidal shelter for the hightide"

She muttered darkly and gratefully accepted an ale.

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"Looking Through the Wares looks like it could be fun. Puts name down"

"That barbian is someone not to be messed with."

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Atramor nods to Eric, as he then leaves the saloon. McCafferey bawks in relief, flaps down the bar, and continues pecking her food. Atramor watches her for a while, then unsheaths his Sai-dagger, pulls a rag from his pocket, and cleans it. It seems to have a normal amount of debris, some blood, and a little rum on the blade. A socket for a gemstone is set in the crossguard, but it's empty. A name is inscribed on the blade in some foreign Eastern language. It can't be read, not even by him, but it definetely wasn't his.

"Saloon's busy," he mutters as several new heroes seemed to materialize. In his opinion, none of these people were heroes. Not until they actually did anything. He himself wasn't a hero yet. But, his life of constantly picking pockets needed to end at some point. This place was almost like a dream. A place where somebody could do whatever they want, and completely ignore the rest of their life. He needed a place like that.

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After the hulking barbarian stormed past him, almost burying him into the ground, Althior stood there with his jaw dropped. She seemed more likely to be one behind a crime then one to try to prevent it. This was one backstory Althior would be eager to hear. Hopefully they would not be on the same quest. He wasn't sure who he feared more, The Barbarian woman or evil itself.

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Nyx peels the horrible hairy hands of Lord Boomington off her slender figure and looks at him with utter disgust.

"If you lay your filthy paws on me one more time, I'll turn your head into a cheese fondue, you lecherous old goat. You're far too loud and annoying for me, and if you carry on with Shadina like that, you're likely to lose an arm. And anyway, you don't have any money, so get off me!"

And with that, Nyx stalked off back to the bar all the while muttering ancient curses and hexes under her breath, until she reached her drink, where she took a lady-like sip or two through the special crazy-straw Scheherazade always seemed to find for her.

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Tesni looked around for an un-occupied space, spying some, she walked through, checking back at the embarassing trail of wet sand.

Finally out of the way and with a good drink, she flicked a rag from a pocket and began to run down the large blade she had carried all this way. Smatters of drying sand flecked it, testament to the last mad dash to land over encroaching tide and sloppy mudflats. "Aye, we are a long way from home Cryf, we'll make a name and everyone will know the name Hightribe..."

Tesni looked around the room at the other patrons, one man had a chicken on his head and another lookd north, or was it norse? A bustle of clerics and mages, shiny knights. "Aye Cryf, I want to be back up high, we are far too low for me".

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Lord Boomigham laughed happily. "I'm afraid your friend doesn't like me much. I suppose I ought to do as she says and leave you alone as well," he said to Shadina before walking off, humming a tuneless tune. He sat down opposite of a young human, sitting all alone. He offered his hand.

"King Boomingham," he said, giving him self a promotion just for the hell of it.

"I'm Ellaria," said the girl. Something about her attracted Boomingham, but not in his usual way. She seemed more frail, not weak, but delicate perhaps. Whatever it was, wooing would not ensue... or at least not in his normal head first approach.

"I'm rather new around here," said Boomingham. "I've got a question or two. These Veteren fellows who run the show, who are they? Have you met them? If they fought in the Orcish War, I may know them. I fought in the Orcish War myself!" He leaned over the table and whispered. "I'm 294 years old. Don't tell anyone." He then returned to his normal volume. "I know, I don't look a day over 44, the body and mind still have to catch up. I say, think about this. Six noble families running the town, six veterens running this place... chance, or something more?"

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Christopher turned to the barbarian "no need for the hostilities friend, we're all on the same team. What tribe do you hail from if you care to say?"

"Anyway" he said turning back to the rest of the crowd. "what's this ridiculousness I hear about a gold limit(laughs)? I'm a wealthy knight. I have at least 60 gold in my, wait (checks pocket) make that 10, sigh. (looks at gibbon) rogues:hmpf_bad:."

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Sven a simple dirt shovelling peasant made his way over to the tavern where

he knew his farther would be drinking away the meagre family coffers. He had

been summoned and despite a secret resentment, he would obey.

1.jpg

My son, you have heard of Heroica Hall, a place for hero’s and mighty deeds.

Well I have something to tell you, we were not always peasant our family was

once noble and possibly even mighty. I want you to redeem the family name; you

have the blood of a Hero inside of you. I have left you an heirloom from your

great, great, great, grandfather, its underneath the tree you used to play by

as a child. It should help.

3.jpg

Beneath the tree in an old ale barrel (typical of his father) Sven found

something far more interesting than a simple necklace or family tome. No it was

armour and a sword and shield, possibly not the greatest but still something

(after all vintage equipment was very in season at the moment).

4.jpg

Quickly donning the gear Sven realised who he was.

He was a Knight, he was a Hero,

He is Sir Sven.

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Sir Sven, Level 1 Knight

7.jpg

23-year old human male

Power: 4 Health: 10 Gold: 10

Inventory: Ancestors’ Sword(WP: 3),Ancestors' Shield (SP 2), Potion (1)

Edited by SirSven7

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"I'm rather new around here," said Boomingham. "I've got a question or two. These Veteren fellows who run the show, who are they? Have you met them? If they fought in the Orcish War, I may know them. I fought in the Orcish War myself!" He leaned over the table and whispered. "I'm 294 years old. Don't tell anyone." He then returned to his normal volume. "I know, I don't look a day over 44, the body and mind still have to catch up. I say, think about this. Six noble families running the town, six veterens running this place... chance, or something more?"

Ellaria tilted her head as she listened to the ramblings of the portly man.

"I am sorry, kind sir, but I only arrived to this city recently, so I know nothing of the goings-on here. But you should probably ask Scheherazade over there for history lessons, if she isn't too busy. If you'll excuse me, I must retire to the inn I'm staying at. There is nothing for me here, not yet."

As she stood up, she politely nodded at the older man, but in her mind she thought: "294 years old, really?!" The city of Eubric was a peculiar place indeed, even for someone who was rumoured to be kin to fairies.

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I think some of you are spending too much time at the bar.

I'll go for some real food, please. :moar:

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