From: dsimkins@yang.earlham.edu
Newsgroups: rec.games.frp
Subject: Re: RQ: Heroquesting? (very long w/ story)
Date: 14 Apr 92 03:57:22 GMT
Organization: Earlham College, Richmond, Indiana

In article <1992Apr8.162522.88539@vaxc.cc.monash.edu.au>, jwadsley@vaxc.cc.monash.edu.au writes:
> Does anyone out there know where I can get some decent HeroQuesting
> information. I regularly play 3rd Edition Runequest and have Glorantha (
> Genertela ), Gods and Elder Secrets supplements. None of these are any help
> regarding HeroQuesting. I have a feeling that HeroQuesting is covered in
> earlier ( 2nd Ed. ) material.
> i] Can anyone point me towards where I can find published info on HeroQuesting?
> ii] Can anyone tell me a few things about it anyway?
> iii] People who make up their own HeroQuests: What guidelines do you use?
> 
> Thanks in advance,
> James Wadsley

No, it has not really been covered in any one place.  It was covered in a 
page at the enfd of the Elder Secrets book, but that was grossly 
inadequate.  Tales of the Reaching Moon (a fanzine, e-mail me for the 
address) has a good deal of great information by Sandy Peterson and Greg 
Stafford (as well as others).  The definition below is drawn from them, 
but is primarily mine.

Heroquesting is hard to define.  It is not about rules and die rolls, it 
is about roles and archetypes.  Americans tend to think that everything is 
clear, distinct and defined.  The people of Glorantha know that this is 
not true.  Jung writes that Archetypes are most strongly felt at the 
points where conventional reality is weakest.  The same is true for 
Heroquests.  The great comprimise is one of reality.  The web of Arachne 
Solara holds the universe, the real, together.  It also provides access 
from one part of "reality" to another.  During the times of the year when 
the webs fabric is restored, during the festivals and rituals of the gods, 
it is possible for even the most mundane of worshippers to get caught up 
in the ritual.  The rituals take on a reality of there own, and in the 
process create and restore the conventional one.  The priest is, of 
course, teaching the lay people about the religious history while acting 
it out in this ritualized way, but at the same time, the ritual is very 
real.  The events are not happening in some remote and colorless past, 
they are happening here, today.

On the large and small scales, the "people" of the earth rejuvenate the 
comprimise.  They walk the paths of their god, and the paths of their 
heroes in their search for safety.  The Seven Mothers priests and 
priestesses get together and show the creation of their gods.  From their 
often common origins through their mythic journeys, finally taking leading 
to their fight to create the Red goddess, their fight for a place within 
the universe, and her ultimate victory over the monster, showing her 
mastery of chaos.  The participants and initiates are carried through the 
scenes as the goddess is created, as she wraps the earth around herself 
and ascends to the middle sky.  Their experience is real, and it is 
important.  They are participants in the remaking of the universe, the 
yearly renewal of the contract, and with each year the contract changes.

Perhaps this year creature symbolizing the monster nearly won the battle, 
a bad omen for the community.  But this myth has a long history.  Even 
longer is the history of Orlanths defeat, and eventual rescue of Yelm.  
These things will resist change, but even they may be mutable.

Sometimes survival demands that someone rise above the common role and 
take on the mantle of the hero.  This is often done by choice, but is 
rarely an easy role to follow.  Unlike the intiation rituals and the 
rejuvenatin rituals, these heroes must walk a new path.  Perhaps the 
village is suffering from a disease which has no known cure.  The hero 
sets out, armed with all of the magic, all of the weapons, but especially 
all of the knowledge, available to the village.  The village elder has 
heard a story of the great Thrubert who climbed beetle rock, resting on 
the plateau where Chalana Arroy healed "Fire Wood Sprite", who had been 
left to die by the chaos horde.  He had gone to meet with the good 
goddess, and so must our hero.
	Through a set of adventures, difficult and interesting in 
themselves, the hero travels to Beetle Rock.  Along the way friends have 
been gained and lost.  Old enemies have blocked the way, and new ones have 
appeared.  A game of dice with an old man by the roadside lost for our 
hero the sword of the ancestors, but the old man pitied him and exchanged 
the sword for his stout walking stick.  So, unarmed save for this stick of 
wood, the hero approaches the rock.
	The climb is not difficult, and the hero reaches the top just as 
the sun is setting.  Camp is prepared, and a sense of expectation begins 
to build.  The journey has been long, and there  is a sense that it will 
all be in vain.  Will Chalana Arroy come?  Hope had carried our hero this 
far, but hope is a tenuous foundation, and not one upon which to build a 
village.
	The night is passed restlessly as the hero waits for a glimmer of 
light that might indicate the coming of the goddess, or the coming of the 
dawn, but all that can be seen is darkness; lonely and eternal.  Suddenly, 
out of the darkness comes a form without shape or substance.  It strikes 
and pain surges through our hero's body.  Wherever skin is touched, boils 
erupt.  Our hero fights valiantly against his assailant, but it resists 
all attacks.  Soon the hero collapses, unable to move, unable to speak.  

	Visions and dreams fill the gaps left by consciousness.  There is 
a voice, soft and lilting, in the background.  The voice is approaching.  
It is singing.  It is speaking.  Our hero is burning.  The touch of the 
night has burned into the skin, penetrating deep.  The sensation of heat 
sinks into underneath.  Deep into the person itself.  The voice is in the 
background.
	Our hero cannot feel the wind against skin; cannot feel water 
against the temple; our hero can only feel the fire burning inward, always 
inward.  The voice is soothing in the background, a dream, contrasted with 
the searing reality which is everything.  She is saying that the fire must 
come out.  She is saying that soon it will burn the very soul.  Our hero 
does not want to listen.  The fire is speaking now.  It is promising 
solace.  It is promising peace.  It is promising oblivion.  Oblivion rests 
on our heroes tongue.  It rests there for a moment, and begins to fall.  
Suddenly thought is easier.  The village looms ahead.  The people burning 
with sickness, crying for release.  The headmaster on the stoop is crying 
for his wife.  She has caught the sickness and will surely die.  The word 
begins to drip, like honey, from his lips.  It is not allowed to fall.
	Burning with fire, burning with the torment of a thousand fires, 
our hero reaches, grabs and tears apart the chest which holds the fire.  
The voice in the background encourages, soothes, pleads.  Our hero reaches 
into the chest and into the soul, pulling the fire from within.  As it is 
pulled, our hero is pulled with it.  Forced through the opening, 
suffocating, our hero climbs towards the light.  The goddess encourages 
with words.  Our hero feels the cool air ahead, feels hands carress and 
then pull, smoothly, powerfully.
	Breathing again.  Our hero has forgotten how good it felt.  The 
air is cool on wet skin.  The light breaks over the hilltops as the day 
begins, new and rejuvenated.


	Our hero sits on a hill, watching the sun as it slides below the 
horizon.  The wooden stick lies loosely in hand as night approaches. The 
coming of the night brings the darkness.  The darkness is black, but the 
rough wooden staff is a comfort.  Our hero knows what is coming, and 
fears, but a decision has been made.  Finally the darkness falls.  It 
strikes, bearing flesh open in its wake, but recoils in surprise.  Our 
hero takes initiative, there isnt much time, the darkness fights, 
confused.  Its confusion turns to fear, and then desparation.  Finally, 
staff overhead in the night, the hero falls upon the form, prepared to 
kill it.  The darkness, however, will not be so caught.  The staff falls 
upon empty ground, and our hero stands alone.

	The trip back to the village is peaceful and tranquille.  His 
arrival is met by all the people of the town, eager to tell him of the 
miraculous lifting of the plague.  Eager to hear his tales.  These tales 
are repeated over and over again.  The children are told of the person 
whose valor saved the city from destruction by plague.  The events are 
reinacted in the rituals of the holy days from season to season, from year 
to year, to remind the people why it is that they should remember our 
hero.  And each year, at a special time of year, he village gathers 
together to hear the story, and the bravest of them takes the part of our 
hero, once defeating the enemy and restoring the village.



I hope that this answered your question, and I hope that it gave you some 
ideas.  (Actually I really hope that you can get through it all :-)  For 
further information, Greg Stafford seems to always suggest Joseph 
Campbell's _Hero With 1000 Faces_.  Campbell draws heavily from Jung, so I 
would add him to the list.  Also a good book of fairy tales or mythology 
could spark some ideas.

I have tried to pick an example that could be an account of an actual 
heroquest game (with only a single player, of course).  Maybe someone out 
there will put it into game terms (although that probably isnt necessary) 
and run it.  If so, tell me how it works out.

Thanks a lot for your time.  I would appreciate any comments or ideas 
either on the net of by e-mail.

David Simkins
dsimkins@yang.earlham.edu