Endgame

Well, considering they hold 250+ gold value for you, maybe... Medal of Valor is just a bit superior, though.

So far, I got an ambrosia from an NPC... and that was it. My only other letter was to Masson. Here is hoping the purple paragon isn't too lovestruck to pull through.

Siri - or whoever she was - gives a surprisingly similar gigle, twirling her blade aorund like a baton. She doesn't even bother controlling her magical might now, a trail of blue ethereal sparks following her blade's path. Her eyes are a smoldering blue, brighter than ever. She smelled of jasmine, a smell familiar to those who struck down Jetorix. "Well, aren't you quite the charmer? To be exact, no, I am not Siri, nor am I possessing her. It's just a moniker I chose to give to this vessel when I took control. Now that the cat is out of the bag about my lovely little Oculoids, you may call me Iris: one of the two Oculoid Masterminds. I've been pulling some strings for a loooong time, heroes." "So you're the abomination who has been terrorizing our colony." "Well, you seeemd to be doing a fairly decent job of driving it into the ground yourslelf, Mr. Regent." "What?" "I found this place a disorganized mess... And you've been the head since the start. I can see much deeper than that polished shells of yours, politician. I can see the insecurities scarring your soul... And turst me, they are numerous. You were admirable on the battlefield, once upon a time... But look at you now. Leading a colony you have no hope of dragging towards a better future. Woefully incompetent, sacrificng both your military prowess and your children's upbringings for what? A half-hearted attempted to fix the wrongs of your predescessors? You have nothing more then a military career long since past, a broken town, and broken children. You are a failure, Solon. Can't fix the colony you head, can't spend time with his children, can't repel the demons invading his home -you can't do anything! Only because of your failures was this plot possible in the first place!" "....S-silence!" Solon sputters, unable to get out anything else. It was clear he could see more than a kernel of truth in the demon's words, and it was tormenting him. Siri gives a venomous smile. "Can't take the heat, can you, regent? Hah. Pathetic. But either way, heroes. Ask, and I shall answer... I see no harm in illuminating your current situation. Crushing your hopes and spirits may be just the thing I need today!"

I sent out two, so that kind of defeats that argument.

And thus, karie gets another overtly seductive outfit.

The horde of inky creatures weaves through the colony, guiding the passive prisoners through the colony. Although silent, they are in contemplation, wondering how to escape their deciever's cluthces. Eventually, they reach another massive cavern, one the party had never seen: The Echoes Tower. The massive stone pillar raised to the cavern's cieling, casting an impressive shadow on the heroes and their "escorts". From the top of the tower protrudes several stone tubes, shooting out in all directions. They weave through the thick walls of the cavern, a practical web of tubing spreading throughout the colony; This was the heart of the Progg's communication system. "A dozen guards. I always have a dozen guards posted here. What did you do with them?!" Fydelle hisses. "Are you quite sure you want to know that?" Fydelle suddenly falls silent at the implication. He mutters a single sentence, eyes downcast. "...I've failed them." "Your melancholy is delightful, but we have bigger fish to fry! Upwards, my plethora of prisoners!" "Insufferable, inky bastard..." "What is a base-turd, mama?" "Nothing, sweetie..." The party begins their forced walk up the Echoes Tower, stepping inside of its impressive gates. They trot up the tower's spiral staircase, their every movement monitored by the Oculoids that had tricked them. Eventually, the party reaches the top, and some of them see a face they recalled vividly... "Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in!"

I cough, before continuing. "If it is of any consolation... I believe that if it wasn't for Heroica's aura, we would've never met. I would've died of old age, I imagine... Fortunately, however, I think whatever magic surrounding this hall has dragged me through the last year or so. You can't run from the reaper forever, though, and the years are catching up... 429 or so though isn't a bad age, huh? It'll be a long run, and a good one too, here and there." I look at my reflection in my glass of water - a blue glow surrounded by a black hood, rippling in the water's surface. It wasn't even a face. it was just a facade I had been using for hundreds of years, at this point... and to be honest, I was growing tired of it. Especially now. How long has it been since I actually loooked at myself in the mirror? My actual self, not just some ghostly glow. "...Think I should ditch the hood, Karie?"

"Well, good to hear things are going well between you and Masson..." I sigh. "I apologize for just dropping that bombshell on you like that... It'd be unfair for you to just walk in here one day in a couple of years and find out I'm dying then, you know...?"

No one has ever figured out what the Gladius Unit is a rip-off of, and for that I am quite proud.

End the finale with some variant of "and they all lived happily ever after", I beg you. (That or "they all lived happily ever after... in the afterlife" works too.)

I cough, and attempt to switch the subject to something other than my mortality. I'd rather not think about it. "So... How was your night?" It was unconvincing and plastic change of subject, but I couldn't come up with anything more substantial.

Technically, he died a t 6 months... Although I believe the good doctor is attempting to refer to how many years he has left.

QM Note: The_Customizer has been having difficulties with posting to threads, but not to PMs - thus, I will be relaying Erdathcath's messages (that have been PMed to me) until The_Customizer can get the internet working correctly. Erdathcath looks around the close-knit group, she sees the Proggs arguing away, and overall, everyone seems to be passing the blame from one person to another. It makes no sense to her, they are surrounded by demons, and rather than plan a course of action, everyone is arguing? She begins to think of someway to escape, but nothing pops into her mind. She turns to Sarge, "What do you think of this? Any ideas of escape?" "We do, old man. And very soon we will have the power to achieve it."

I simply shake my head, my eyes downcast.

"I've been working on the Shimmer. I'd rather not do it from backwater channels, for obvious reasons..." "Black Over? Can't say I've heard of it... Then again, I'm not one for shopping sprees. For yourself, or...?" "About the doctor's visit..." I sigh, and unfurl the doctor's notice. I roll it out on the table, pressing out the creases, and direct her attention to the last line on the notice. It was written in a stereotypical docotr's scrawl, but the writing was as clear as it was grim: "Patient's Life Expectancy: 1 to 2 years."

"Making the entire academy vanish? Some parlor trick for an adolescent." I note. "Just had a bad visit to the physician's office, that's all. Well, three visits. One said they were booked, one was a holy cleric and attempted to drive a cross in my forehead before I ran out, and the third gave me some... less than perfect news." I give a distant look before shaking my head a bit and returning to reality. "Yourself? I saw a brochure - plannning a vacation somewhere?"

I walk over to my red-headed granddaughter. I try desperately to hid eit, but my dreary demeanor was nothing but obvious. "Umm... Hi. Again. Think we should give the fields another shot?" I begin to notice not even my posture is straight any more. Get a grip, Sorrow!

I open the doors to Heroica Hall almost as silently as I had when I exitted them. Being a quiet enough individual, with most of my typical conversation mates absent or otherwise occupied, it appeared I slipped out unnoticed. However, something was clearly different when I walked out compared to no, and it had nothing to do with the hall itself. I exitted this hall with a straight posture, ready to take on any trial or quest that may have faced me... and I shambled back in, back slumped. In short, I felt... Old, really. And my recent trip to the physician's didn't help any - in fact, it was the cause. With a crumpled up piece of paper summarizing the gloomy visit in my hand, I take a seat and unfurl it. Rolling out the creases, I read it again, wondering if the ink on the paper will change the more I look at it. Obviously, it won't.

QM Note: Happy late holidays, everyone! I'm back with a vengeance: The combination of weather and the up[coming of a weekend has left me a lot of spare time. "Let us proceed, then, shall we? Our mistress awaits in the Echoes Tower." "Echoes Tower? But that's..." "...In the heart of the colony. Which means you demons are here just to divert our attention briefly? Am I correct?" The Oculoid claps its hands and cackles. For once, the horde of Oculoids join in heartily, a screeching cacophony of sinister laughter echoing around the once regal pond. The heroes finally begin to realize the situation looming over them... "Bravo! Truly, you are an astute one, Solon! Did the heroes neglect to mention that three hundred of us were arriving? Or was it simply a case of selective hearing? To think, you so easily played into our hand... Send fourty of our troops to bait out the heroes and the two figureheads, and let the bulk of the horde do the rest. Why do so few people fail to comprehend the concept of "splitting up"? Now then..." With a ghastly snap of its tentacles, the Oculoids swarm in perfect succesion, almost dronelike. They surround the party in a rigid square: Half staring in at the heroes, half staring out. All of them were ready to pounce at a moment's notice. "March!" Caught within the confines of the Oculoid's clutches, the party begins their march to the Echoes Tower. The heroes, Solon, Fydelle, Beatrice, and Aquos Jr. all begin their grim walk through the colony. "Your strategy this time was a bit lacking, Solon, dear." Beatrice hisses, caressing her terrified child. "Same to you, heroes. Even Johon - you defeated The Regret! How did we all stroll into their slimy little clutches so easily...?" "Our lives are at stake here. It is probably best that we don't cannibilize each other in what little time we have." "More then our lives, old friends. Many others' are at stake." Surprisingly, Solon seemed to slump out of his typical stressed, overworked, and defeated demanor. There was something new in his voice - a determination that was willing to do whatever it takes, outmatching even Fydelle's gruff confidence. "It seems like the politician is beginning to remember he was once one of the fiercest warriors in the Progg militia..." Fydelle remarks. What will the party do?

Happy (stupifly late) New Years, everybody! holiday season has been excessively busy, but the weather has managed to clear my schedule for the next 4 or 5 days minimum. Update in 81 very soon!

"You seem to be forgetting the concept of "overpowering", Raider. 40 against 7." The disciple raises a glowing white tentacle, and suddenly lunges it towards the heroes. The appendage's barbs shoot out and begin to crackle with electricty. The other Oculoids do the same - fourty tentacles, ready and willing to blast in rapid succession. "We do not practice chivalry. You will be obliterated. I recommend compliance." "Heheheheh... Powerful? perhaps. Infallible? Hardly. Heroica has had a couple of deaths on their hands. If you want to rush to your death , be my guest... But I figure you'd rather an endure a chat than several lethal dark magic blasts. We have our methods. The choice is yours.

"Please don't yell. You' scare the child. And yes, I do call myself civil - who is the one screaming here?" "Oh, so are you the leader? or are you just calling the shots because it suits your fancy?" "I think not... You see, we only require one thing from you. Allow my hoard and I to escort you to Mistress Iris, and you may set up your terms from there."

In the center of the pond hovers a White Oculoid, mischeviously rubbing together its barbed tentacles. Its eye gleams with both mischief and malice, glowing a fearsome blue. Next to the horrible, inky creature was a purple Progg and a young larva with a crown... "How delightfully naive you are! Almost as much as this broad here and her little whelp..." "Broad?! I'm a nurse, you dripping freak! And don't you dare call my little Aquos Jr. a whelp!" The white Oculoid begins to pulse and crackle with blue static, pointing a sharpened tentacle at Beatrice. "Hush, my dear... So quickly you forget you are surrounded by a horde of demons." The young monarch cowers, running into his mother's embrace. "Mama, I'm s-scared..." Beatrice whispers tenderly into Aquos Jr's ear, but her voice wavered - not even she believed the words that were spoken. "I am too, honey, but don't let that evil thing know that... It'll be okay, sweetie." The White Oculoid gives a high pithced cackle, nearly tumbling back in hysteria. "Oh yes, my little prince, it'll all be over soon." "I have no interest in conversing with unshaven barbarians. A human thinking they could take down an Oculoid gathering of this magnitude.... hah! It is like the training target fancying itself the crossbow's greatest enemy. Merely something to be shot once, destroyed, and disposed of." "We, as I sure you are well aware, are the Oculoids. Although we are nameless by design, you may refer to me as Iris's Disciple - Disciple Number 4, to be exact, but I am not one to quibble over details. I already know all of you well enough, so no need for any grand introductions, hm?" "Battle? Oh, no, absolutely nothing of the sort! Put the booze down, Raider, and we can end this in a more civil manner." "Once again, you are mistaken. We do not wish to destroy Proggkind or their home... We simply have a few key objectives, and after that we clean up and go home. However, I can hardly garuntee that there will be no collateral..." Another cackle, this time less grand.

We should all get together and play Mario Party, this board would crash and burn from the animosity within a half hour.