Endgame
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The magnifying glass casts its telltale light on the spectral orb. From the purple sphere emerges the silhouette of man -a cape flowed behind him, his build lean but muscular, tall but not hugely so. His hair seemed to parted neatly to one side. Was it...? The phantom speaks with a smooth, melancholic cadence. His voice is almost hypnotic, the man speaking in a very pleasant and collected tone; Only for him to suddenly begin stumbling over words, repeating them, or skipping them altogether, a stark contrast to his normally smooth voice. It was jarring, really, the way he spoke... "Well, hello, hello heroes. I'm... Not Masson, certainly, not Masson. No, my name is Royce... Royce Cour. His father, as it would happen..."
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You'll have to wait and see. Also, congratulations 105ers, you defied The regret and made him really feel it this time around! (You could've pulled a similar stunt by not killing Iris, and The Regret would've been similarly pissed.)
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"That... Is a good question. It may be possible, but... Whether or not it burns the scroll, well, I don't know." QM Note: Same EXP not matter what. "...You have a good heart. People can get away with bad things, they can be forgiven, sure. But not once I've been punished for my crimes. Time I changed that. But I trust your group to put an end to this." Marcus's hands begin to glow blue as he muters something beneath his breath - arcane magic words, weaving a spell around the heroes. Their vision begins to get obscured by a blue light, their senses being dulled and slowly reduced to nothing. They can feel a jolt, and then a lurching - unexpected, but not lethal. Before they know it, they are being flung to a distant location. Marcus removes his gloves, his cape, and peels down his hood. He lies down, and waits for the cold to overtake him. "Doing something for someone, selflessly. Heh. Feels almost nostalgic." ------------------------------------ "They did WHAT?!" "They... teleported, sir. Past our ambush." The Regret unhinges. "Dammit! You should've had that Marcus killed, not imprisoned! Dammit... I am conducting the grandest of orchestra here, Seerus! I cannot have them deviating from the fate I have written for them! ...Careless. Careless on account of all parties. And the Oculoids you used were the guards for the interception room, weren't they? That's another ambush ruined. Nnnrgh... ...Enough time has passed. Masson has metabolized the steroids by now. Time to drop the hammer on them. Seerus, dispatch our new Commander. I have to rectify this oversight." ------------------------------------------------ When the light of the spell disspates, the heroes find themselves being picked up by large metal claws, and deposited onto an iron platform. Enduring the odd spell, as well as seeing its power first hand, gave the heroes more experience. "Organic matter detected. Defer to alternate security for identification and disposal." With that, the claw returns to its work, apparently content with handing the heroes off to someone else. The heroes look around their surroundings, baffled. Two Dauntlets sort through intercepted mails and parcels. An odd device sits to their left, flickering ominously... Also flickering is the purple glow of a spirit of sorts. It couldn't be Masson, could it...? "It's warm in here, at *cough* least."
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"I imagine that the other path only holds more security..." QM Note: By healing Marcus's hands, you've more or less Taken A Third Option and earned yourself a shortcut into the Citadel! Unless there are further objections/questions, I'll move this along in an hour, give or take.
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"No, no, it won't be too unpleasant. I hear you get warm at the very end... And besides, I'm not going to waste your time looking for a key." "And just loiter around, wiating to get thrown in another cell? No. Don't waste your time. Now, are you ladies and gentlemen ready?"
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"...That would not be fully accurate. It is merely that this incident has made me realize my folly. That, and... I'm a liability, and in more ways than one. It's not just my frostbite. You people may be of "strong moral character", but I'm certainly not. I teleported in here like the coward I am to rob a demon of scroll, and use it to exact revenge. If he offered me even an iota of power, I would seize it. That is why I am not going with you, and that is why I'm content to leave things here. Now. Are you people ready?"
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You'll just have to keep watching. Same Regret time, same Regret channel.
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QM Note: Oh, right, you attached them to your magniscope! My bad. Marcus Aurorus Mood: Contemplative Surface Thoughts: "All these years, and imy story ends like this."
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"From what I recall, the "interception room" was quite enclosed... If you want out of the cold quick, teleportation will get you inside instantly." Johon finds nothing of value with the Magniscope. "I told you this already. Do not force your "justice" upon me."
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"It can be used exactly once. No more, no less. And the bedroll... No, it's not safe enough here, not to mention the cold." "But he called me a... Oh, *wheeze*, okay, Mortimer." Punii passes an Ether Core between the bars. Marcus crushes the core in his newly rejevanted hands, restoring his ether. "...Ready." "Yeah. Yeah... It is." Marcus sighs. "I am not going to lie, woman. I came to this place on a twisted quest, searching for a twisted object to fulfill a twisted goal of mine. And being humiliated, rendered paralyzed, and thrown in a cell to freeze has made me see that, oddly enough. The Regret is ending many people's lives - cutting their stories short. But I am content to let my story end here. If you have made it this far without any sort of magic, than I imagine that all you'll be missing out on is some security measures, possibly an ambush."
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Heroica RPG - Quest#111: No Fear of the Setting Sun
Endgame replied to Khorne's topic in The Heroica Archive
"...I have to second this... Stations for what?" -
The roots of life wrap around Marcus's hands, forming a floral glove. They heat up as they repair the frozen tissue in Marcus's frayed hands, the pink of his flesh returning as the frostbite recedes. Marcus flexes his fingers, a look of happiness appearing on his usually impassive face. "...Thank you. That was... Unexpected. But... My ether was drained, as well. Teleportation is a taxing spell for but one person. You're a group of 8 - well, 7 and a half, considering the yellow runt's size -" "Hey!" "So, in sum, it would probably take... 75 ether. I currently have none." Marcus's Ether: 0/75 "...It's a shame I won't live to see the very thing I came for, eh? The frostbite is starting to take everything else now. Feet, legs... But I trust you'll do well, yes?" "Well, Animutilav does one of two things. If you use it on a soul with a body, it tears the soul to shreds... However, if you use it on a soul without a vessel, you can use it to bind a soul to a body. I am not going to tell you what I was going to use it for."
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I agree that the game's rules are rather well crafted, but we've faced major overhauls in the past - changing the way Rogues work, for example, impacted the output and progression of several classes, which makes weapon types almost seem small in comparison. And to think their grasp on the rules is inferior is a bit unfair. Hell, my grasp has not bettered since my first hosting job, and I'm 11 quests in now. I'll leave it at this: Heroica is a community game, and the lower-levelled heroes are part of the community, same as everyone else. Seniority should not be such a gigantic factor.
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That's a little abrasive, don't you think, Flare? I, personally, would not agree with the implementation of scythes, but I am playing a cleric now - my opinion will change over time. And things have been changed and altered before on player consensus. Besides, just because a player is relatively "new", that doesn't mean we should automatically nullify their opinions.
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"If anyone knows how to cure it, they're welcome to try."
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"My hands have succumbed to frostibite, and they have drained my ether. I am unable to in my... situation. I know of no ways to reverse frostbite. if you know a way, that is a different story."
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"I was bound and nearly unconscious. I cannot recall where the room was..."
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That's what I did, and I eagerly await seeing them.
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The red cloaked man turns around. "...Hmph. I am Marcus Aurorus, formerly a great mage and adept teleporter." "Doing your best Oculoid impersonation, I see? Either way, it can't hurt to tell you... Even if you are just those damned devils in disguise, than you'll already know that I teleported here, trying to hunt down an incredibly rare scroll known as Animutilav. Some sort of magic spell interfered with my warping abilities, and like a fool, I found myself being warped into some sort of mail storage. It seems like whatever gets teleported here - whether it is person, letters, objects, anything - all get intercepted and sent to the same room. Needless to say, the guards apprehended me. They used some sort of magic - the Borealis Binder, I think they called it, to render me utterly immobile. ...Leave me here. Do not force false justice on me. I wish to stay in my cell and freeze. Is that understood?" Would the party head back and go left, continue up the jail cells and see what else they can find, or continue talking to Marcus?
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Heroica RPG - Quest#111: No Fear of the Setting Sun
Endgame replied to Khorne's topic in The Heroica Archive
"Would you have any reccomendations on how to get there? You wouldn't happen to know some caravan men or something that could take us there, would you?" They still used carvans nowadays, right? She was still trying to get to the new vernacular. -
The party heads through the right path, continuing on the trail. Black towers raise from below, flanking the narrow passage and casting a shadow on the heroes. The party soon finds themselves at a prison block of sorts, built into the side of the mountain. "These poor *wheeze* people... Or, what's... Left of them..." Several tiers of prison cells are lined on the mountain's face. Tiny, grungy cells are hollowed out, each one blocked by a heavy steel doors. The party goes up and down the rows of practical cages, looking inside each cell. The extreme cold had frozen all of the prisoners to death, snowflakes gathering on each frostbitten body. The party continues, ascending the mountain side, growing more and more dismayed the more empty cells they discover. This trend continues, until they find a cell with a living occupant. He faces the wall of the cell, looking away from the heroes, speaking defiantly through chattering teeth. "The frostbite has already claimed my hands, fiends. I have told you what I know. There is nothing more you can take me. Now, begone - leave me to freeze!"
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QM Note: Previous post has pictures now! "My sister acted as a mercenary for hire, while I was a medic in the army who had a little bit of combat training. Never saw the front lines once, though... My sister, though. She had "battle lust", my father called it. Couldn't get enough. Her paid exploits - I tagged along on a few adventures, the nonlethal ones - eventually had found some of The Regret's forces. After she dispatched them, The Regret himself personally showed up to congratulate her... Before infecting her with a deadly disease. It was the greatest defeat she had ever suffered in her career. Only her, my family, and some other doctors knew about that incident, but she thought her career was smudged nonetheless. So... The second she healed up and heard of rumors of a "white devil" with huge stacks of treasures, she gathered up all of her former comrades and set sail for here. I decided to come along, too... I guess I was trying to prove myself to her. However, she never really recovered from the sickness The Regret hit her with. She was still sluggish and clumsy in battle, and Seerus had her pinned before we knew it." Alice bows her head down for a little bit, the faintest hint of muffled sobbing escaping her lips. "And... And now, here we are, in Hell after it has literally frozen over, going to confront The Regret. It's... It's not looking too good, but we gotta try."
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QM Note: Sorry, questees, but pictures for this update will have to come tomorrow afternoon. "Erdathcath, you're *wheeze* going too far...!" "I'm... Inclined to agree with the wrom, kinda. But if this Masson is now an enemy, well, what choice do we have?" Even in his Devilised state, Masson puts the pieces together. "...There was a time when I loved you?" "You still haven't a clue? Hah. I suppose deductive reasoning is not one of your fortes, heroes. The one man who might've been able to put the pieces together is on my side now. Let us leave this place, Devil Commander Masson." "Yes, sir." The pair of white devils vanish in a puff of smoke, leaving the heroes alone to collect their thoughts. The party finds a door on the other end of the observatory. They throw it open and step through, finding themselves... ...Outside. The heroes can feel their skin being assaulted by the horrific winter once more, a miasma of dark clouds overhead pelting them with hail. They found themselves in an odd mix between mountain and Citadel, apparently in an area still undergoing construction. The heroes forge along their snowbound path, great black towers rising out from below them and casting an imposing shadow upon them. The weather was growing worse. Thunder roared and lightning clapped - the brief flashes of light revealed Oculoids dragging massive bricks through the night sky, construction still going on feverishly. It seems The Regret hadn't fully demolished wwhat was left of the mountain. "This is... Wow... I... My homeland, Dastan, has mountains, but not ones like these. Even before The Regret built his Citadel into it, must've been like a giant, steel needle..." "Sad, really, that he's *wheeze* almost replaced the mountain entirely." The party follows their mountainous path until they find themselves at an intersection in the trail: They could head left or right. Both led to steep inclines, though the path to the right seemed to house a more complete structure than the other...
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Heroica RPG - Quest#111: No Fear of the Setting Sun
Endgame replied to Khorne's topic in The Heroica Archive
"Hmmm... Well, in case of emergencies, I suppose. Lady, I'd like one tonic, please." Lynne offers the gold.