The scene:
A curio shop in the Market Ward of Sigil, a respectable stone building that indicated the owner had enough jink to throw around, but not enough to fix the place up. The inside was lined with real wood, cedar by the look of it, a thick, solid cut that still smelled faintly of the Prime woods it originally came from. A wild mass of rugs covered the floors, interspersed with raised display cases and shelves across the walls of the main showroom, finished with a counter a middle-aged man was standing behind.
His hair was the salt-and-pepper mix of an aging man not quite vain enough to dye it, though it still managed to be more pepper than salt. Tall, broad-shouldered, but frayed around the edges, his life wasn't always the dull, boring, safe one of a shopkeeper.
The store was empty when it happened; a sudden chill swept through the room and a still wind blew in from nowhere. If he'd been using candles to light the room, they would have all blown out and left him in darkness. Moments later, the door flew open, nearly flying off its hinges from the force, and the dark man walked in. He was built like a man, but decidedly not one - cloaked from head to toe in rich black robes, his was hidden beneath a black hood, but the ever-present stench of brimstone immediately identified what kind of visitor had come.
"Ye' sure know how ta' make an entrance, cutter." The shopkeeper smirked, his right hand was behind the counter, already gripping a long, gold-colored sword, "Now, what ken' ole' Hopper do fer ye?"
"Tell me a Story, Portalhopper." When the dark man spoke, it was the voice of a man, but something left a ringing in Hopper's ears, if sounds had an aftertaste, the only way to describe it was like rotting fish congealing inside his skull, "Tell me about Tabmoc."
'Hopper's eyes narrowed, he leaned forward just a bit, trying to peek under the dark man's hood. The door slammed shut again, and all was quiet. . . Then, 'Hopper spoke, "Now, thas' a name I 'aven't heard in a long time. Might be a bit easier ta' remember iffin' I 'ad the name o' the man after me darks."
The dark man walked forwards until he was right next to the counter, silent. 'Hopper's grip tightened, reflexes heightened like they hadn't been in years, his blood pumping so hard he could feel it throbbing in his temples, his pupils dilated in shock once the dark man took off his hood, and 'Hopper recognized that face, "I'm sure you know, Portalhopper, the face of your Overlord."
"Varsinax." 'Hopper spat out the name, it tasted foul in his mouth. His tone changed from the colorful Sigilian slang he usually used to a clear, concise, and overtly hostile tone, "The joke lord of Ayenee, the fiend who likes to pretend he's in charge, and the clueless go along with it because they just feel so damned sorry for you. What in the Nine Hells are you doing here?"
"Normally I'd kill you where you stand for that." And the look in Varsinax's blood-red eyes told 'Hopper the Fiend was truly holding himself back from the impulse, "But, you have been away for so long, and perhaps you have forgotten your place."
Varsinax stepped back, he began pacing around the shop, circling through the displays, and he reminded 'Hopper of a spider spinning its web. "I am here, Portalhopper, to offer you a gift. Time is a precious thing for you mortals, isn't it? Especially one running so low on it."
"Ye' know me, Varsinax. Ye' know tha' three rules I 'ave 'bout dealing with fiends." 'Hopper took a pause here to accentuate the point, "Don't. Don't. And Don't. Ye' ken keep yer time ta' yerself."
"You misunderstand me, more time is not my gift to give, only information, an advertisement, one I think you'll be interested in, regardless of your feelings about me." Varsinax was outwardly polite, but inwardly glowering, it galled him to be disrespected by this... Mortal. Arrogance from his inferiors was the one thing the Overlord of all Ayenee could not tolerate. At least, not for long. Still, he continued, "A tournament of Champions is being held. In another realm, in Althanas. When Ayenee was invited, I could think of no better representative."
"Sod off." was 'Hopper's sole response. The fact that it was Varsinax saying these words was good enough reason to ignore them.
"What?!" Varsinax could no longer contain his rage, his eyes gave out, red spread over them and light poured out until it looked like they were merely two glowing holes in his face. His skin became flushed and thickened before covering itself in scales. A tail and wings burst forth from the dark man's back, shredding his fine robes like so much tissue before the mighty growth of a Pit Fiend. Flames burst into life around the now 14' tall monstrosity filling what looked like the whole of 'Hoppers shop. Varsinax's voice now was the chorus of a thousand trapped souls, each screaming in unison, "You cannot defy me."
'Hopper raised his golden blade above the counter. It looked laughable in the face of a monster like this, but 'Hopper's face never showed a hint of worry. Indeed, He was downright calm about it! "Ye' don't scare me Varsinax. Twenty cycles ago I was Hopping through tha' Planes killin' off monsters like ye. Ageless, Immortal leatherheads what don't know a thing 'bout picking brawls they cannae' win. Yer' no different, never 'ave been, never will be."
"THIS is the Portalhopper I have heard about!" Varsinax shouted with a leer, "The man who crowned himself King of the Crosstrade, The fighter from Tabmoc who turned the plans of a living god on their head, and led a rebellion that only ended when E'quimm chose to destroy it all instead of admit defeat! THIS is Portalhopper who will fight for Ayenee, who will Win for the glory of Ayenee."
""That 'Hopper's in the Dead-book, jus' like yer about ta' be if ye' keep spittin' this screed out at me. Now Pike it, I'm not interested." 'Hopper kept his golden sword raised up towards Varsinax, muscles tensed, just waiting for the moment when he'd have to leap out at the Fiend.
Varsinax's mouth spread out in a grin. . . To imagine the sight of this, to fully understand how horrible the look of a pleased Fiend might be, think of the worst nightmare you've ever had, the kind of dream that leaves you covered in sweat, screaming while you're still asleep because you can't wake up. Now if that nightmare had a nightmare it would begin to describe the horrible face so very pleased with itself, "You will fight, Portalhopper. If not for me, than for your friends, your family... Your... Children?" The grin grew even wider.
'Hopper snapped, his golden blade exploded with light, like a new sun being born inside that little shop. 'Hopper's old muscles exploded into action once again, lending him that speed and strength of his youth to leap across his little shop straight for the massive fiend.
There was the sound of sizzling fiend-flesh, the spray of blood, the feeling of awful heat as the flames eternally around the Pit Fiend's body singed 'Hoppers own skin, and then nothing. Varsinax had never intended to fight, only intimidate, and now, the fiend was gone.
It looked something like this.
When everything came back into focus, Varsinax was gone, but he'd left a letter on the floor. It contained two things.
Directions to a Portal. Sigil is called 'The City of Doors' because of its portals, more of them then there are stars in a Prime Material sky scattered throughout the city, natural doorways to nearly anywhere in the Multiverse. One that Varsinax has tracked down must lead to Althanas, to the tournament he is to fight in.
The second is a note, apparently the Fiend foresaw his invitation would not be well received. It carried the very simple message, "You will fight on my behalf, Portalhopper. Deny me and everything around you shall die. Every woman you've ever loved, Every mouth you've ever kissed, every hand you've ever touched will fall, lifeless, to the ground."
Sodding Hells.
There was no way he'd let this stand, but. . . Varsinax was wrong on one point, 'Hopper had never married, never had any children that he knew of, but he had friends, close friends here in Sigil. He couldn't be everywhere at once to protect them in the conventional way. This was what he had to do for now.
But it wouldn't stand.
[hr][hr]
Name: Portalhopper. Or just 'Hopper, to his friends.
Age: 45
Sex: Male
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 215 lbs
Hair Color: Brown, but graying.
Eye Color: Brown
Occupation: Shopkeeper, former Planar Guide, former Knight of the Post
Personality: Wild in his youth, he's grown older and wiser through painful experiences in the past. He's calm, collected, but incredibly stubborn when it comes to getting what he wants.
Appearance: An older man, well into middle-age by now. His face is unscarred, but is wrinkled from stress (though he'll tell you it's from laughing and smiling too much). He's tall, but not a giant, with broad shoulders and an impressive build that comes from having never neglected his physique, despite taking on a more sedentary life in recent years. While at the Tournament, he's dressed head to toe in tough brown leather armor reinforced with thin steel bands.
Weapons:
Lucky: A Gold-colored long sword, about 4 feet long. Lucky is a Sun Blade, powerfully enchanted with light magic, to the point where creatures that fear the sun, such as the Undead, find it physically painful to even be near it. Lucky is fantastically light and perfectly balanced, allowing 'Hopper to wield it much more gracefully than a normal weapon of its size. It also possesses the ability to emit a powerful glow, putting out enough light to blind anyone in the immediate area that doesn't have special protection.
Styx: Styx is a dark, wicked-looking blade contrasted in almost every way with Lucky. Instead of a long, straight sword, Styx is slightly shorter (3.5 feet long) and curved, with a sawtooth-style blade that is less effective against armored opponents, but is incredibly effective at making large, cruel slashing wounds that tear out huge chunks of flesh. Even more frightening, Styx is named for the properties it shares with the Waters of that Dark river of the Lower Planes, any strike against the flesh of an opponent will rob them of a small chunk of their memories... Warriors forget what they're doing, why their fighting, and even HOW to use their weapons after enough knicks or scratches, wizards fare even worse, Styx favors robbing them of the memory of how to use their magic.
In Althanas, the memory loss ability for Styx is dependent on willpower. So it will easily effect people with a weaker will, while those of a stronger will have a chance to resist it, loss less memories and also regain some of those memories with some effort. Successive strikes tend to be more effective than the first, as the more Styx fogs a person's mind, the more difficult it is to further resist the sword.
Armor: Banded Armor: Thick leather reinforced with Steel bands that provides optimum protection while still allowing 'Hopper a great deal of freedom of movement. Bands protect his torso, arms, legs, and neck, while he merely wears leather gloves and boots.
Rings: 'Hopper was born without any innate talent for magic. He's never learned or used it, but to compensate, he's grown fond of collecting enchanted rings that he can activate or deactivate with a thought. Though he possesses a fairly large number of them, he can only actually USE two of them at any given time, one on each hand:
Ring of Anti-magic shell: A Beautiful gold ring, inlaid with a small diamond. When activated, this ring simply stops the function of magic in a 30 foot radius around him. While this also stops 'Hopper's own magical items from functioning while it's active, he's found that when facing a foe with greater magical might than him, their physical might is usually inferior, allowing him to just run up and beat them senseless.
In Althanas, It can only last for up to 2 minutes before needing to be recharged for several hours.
Ring of Force Shield: A Silver ring inlaid with an emerald. When activated, a 3 food radius flat plane of magical force appears in front of the ring, centered at the tip of the emerald. The shield is weightless, and incredibly strong, only failing when his with the for a similarly-sized steel shield might be able to stand against. It is similarly effective against magical assaults, though only in the sense that it's a very effective wall.
In Althanas, the force shield can only last for up to 1 minute and, against a strong magic attack, the field will shatter but the attack will dissipate. It will take 2-3 posts before the ring can be used again.
Ring of the Ram: Made from bronze and shaped on top like two fists punching each other in the knuckles. When activated, this ring sends out a barely visible blast of force, equal to what a battering ram would do. Under the ability scale, this would rank as "moderate" sending people flying, breaking bones, causing internal injuries.
Ring of Regeneration: A gruesome little thing, carved out of troll bone, and what appears to be the shrunken, still-beating heart of a troll grafted to the top. When worn, ‘Hoppers wounds heal at an incredible rate, cuts and knicks close almost immediately, while larger wounds take several minutes or more, depending on the severity. Broken bones take several hours, making them beyond the capability of the ring to affect in combat, but wearing it will enable ‘Hopper to keep going despite injuries that might cripple another man.
Skills and Abilities:
Swordsmanship: Master; ‘Hopper was an accomplished swordsman back when most contenders for this tournament were still in diapers. Now, after years of hard-won experience, practicing his sword fighting in lesson after lesson where failure would have meant death, there are very few men in the world who could match ‘Hopper in a swordfight.
His style is ambidextrous, usually defaulting to a high fencing stance, with Lucky pointed straight out, and Styx lifted back, above his head pointed down towards the enemy. His alternate stance involves a nearly unique method of holding his swords backhand, allowing him to use his many rings and both swords without the two interfering with each other.
Physical Ability: Low, ‘Hopper is old, he feels it in his breathing, in his muscles, in his bones. He’s compensated for this as best he can, with frequent exercise and lightweight equipment, but the simple fact is he’s no longer nearly as strong or fast as he was when he was young. He can fake it for a couple minutes at a time, but his endurance ain’t what it used to be either.
Everything else is covered by those Rings he uses.
History:
‘Hopper isn’t his real name, but it’s the one he goes by. He knows a little too much about what someone with your true name can do to you, he has seen a little too much to trust anyone with that knowledge.
He’s from Sigil, born and raised on the streets, where he developed a quick wit and a foul mouth, both of which have stuck with him to this day. The…. Unique way he speaks is what’s called the “Cant” a system of slang popular among the lower classes and adventuring types in Sigil.
As far back as he cares to talk about, he’s been a guide to the Outer Planes, something he learned by going there and experiencing the Multiverse, as opposed to some graybeard who’s been in a library his whole life and thinks he knows about anything at all. It’s something he learned by being on the road a lot, a result of his tendency to… Acquire things other people believed they had a stronger claim to, he quickly figured out how to get to somewhere no-one would ever want to follow him, and survive long enough for them to forget about him.
The tendency continued even after he found another nexus of worlds, a realm the natives called Ayenee. In Ayenee he had a great many adventures, fighting the good fight against the Demonic Vampire Azumoth, opposing the self-proclaimed Overlord of Ayenee Varsinax, or just leaping into situations where his nose smelled profit, but in none of them did he take so central a role than the events that unfolded on the island of Tabmoc.
Tabmoc was ruled by a nearly divine figure called E’quimm, a man with one great love, to see powerful individuals beat each other to a bloody pulp for his own amusement. E’quimm was a capricious and vengeful ruler of the Island, forcing each contestant who entered his games to give up the majority of their powers and items, only able to win them back by mortal combat with others on the Island. What’s more, each contestant had their soul bound to a crystal, allowing E’quimm, or his many nameless, faceless monks to hold them helpless if things got too out of hand.
On the island, there was a monthly market, where the possessions of all the contestants that hadn’t been won back yet were put on sale to the highest bidder. Many attempts were made to rob the vendors, some were even successful, but before ‘Hopper came to the Island this was largely considered suicidal. ‘Hopper threw the Island on its knees by arranging theft after successful theft over five consecutive months, gathering a group of partners-in-crime to his side, assisting him in even greater plans, for even greater rewards.
The vicious game of cat and mouse between ‘Hopper and the authority figures of the Island trying to catch him came to a crux when, after failing to trap ‘Hopper in an ambush, he and his followers captured the very monks holding their soul crystals in an extradimensional pocket, trading those crystals for the monk’s lives.
Freed from E’quimms rules, ‘Hopper launched a full scale rebellion against the Island, intending to take it for himself, aided by the other fighters, each and every one of them a force to be reckoned with. When they organized into an Army, opposed by a number of loyalists who felt E’quimm’s rule was fair – the war torn apart the face of the Island.
It finally ended when, after a months-long preparation, ‘Hopper’s forces teleported an entire mountain across the Island to the air directly over E’quimm’s stronghold. Immediately thereafter, there was a flash of light so bright no-one there that day can say clearly what happened, but in the end the mountain was gone, the island was gone, ‘Hopper’s army was scattered, but he, himself, was still alive.
That was when ‘Hopper retired. Still rich from the bounty of things he did manage to acquire while he was on Tabmoc, he moved back to Sigil, opened a store selling curiosities he’d collected from across the Planes, or bought from other Planewalkers. He misses the adventuring lifestyle sometimes, but is content.
Or at least he was, until Varsinax came, and dragged him back to this life.
OOC Time
I used to do the message board and chat room RP thing back in the day, but I've sorta've fallen out of the loop recently.
Then, This happened. Justin (Varsinax) told me about it, so I figured I'd bring back one of my old characters.
I like the synchronicity of myself coming out of RP retirement at Justin's invitation with my Character coming out of retirement at his character's invitation.
This should be fun!
Submit Thread for Judgment
