Deja Vous: The Tale of Hoi

Greetings, fellow readers and all those who appreciate god literature. Today, we will be hearing the immortal classic, "Deja Vous", a tale of murder, deceit, charm, wit, good humor, and class. But most importantly, this is a tale of heroism, and bravery, and nobility, and honor. No other legend can quite come close to that of Hoi, and no song or sonnet could weave such a brilliant tapestry that could so successfully describe one man's incredible life.

(……Who am I kidding? This is the story of a lying, cheating, bloody THIEF!)

Our story begins with our hero, the down-on-his-luck thief Hoi, walking casually down the streets of Radat. Having very little in the ways of possession, he sought to gain his fortune through less… honest means. He had originally intended to seek out the "assistance" of the nobles from towns further up north than Radat--after all, it seemed the richest people lived not in these stinking pits, but in the civilized groves that were Highland territory.

But, having no means to travel to such distant locales, our good hero decided that this place was better than nothing, and so went about his diabolical scheme. His troublesome occupation granted him a costume of disguise, one that would suit him up as one to whom the people looked at in respect and not disdain. And so, after much clever consideration, the good Hoi donned the outfit of the hero Riou, and awaited his new eager audience to approach him.

(Or, to be blunt, Hoi needed cash and schemed up a way to get it without getting caught: to disguise as Riou, and pass himself off as a hero.)

With his newfound appearance, Hoi chuckled merrily to himself and dreamed up of the many ways he could connive his way into fortune and glory, without ever actually having any in the first place. His first destination was the local Radat tavern, where he would deceive the local yokels into thinking that the great Riou had at last appeared, and was now in their very presence. He would then boast of "his" accomplishments, and could expect to gain food, audience, and perhaps gold for such deeds.

When he entered into the tavern, a flock of patrons instantly "recognized" him, though in fact his present guise looked little like the hero he was imitating. Still, there were those who claimed to know his face (having never seen the hero in person), and since such a magnificent warrior was now in their presence (deceiving them all the way!), food and drink were brought to the esteemed guest. Hoi, having succeeded in tricking these people, began a nonsensical and outright outrageous tale of how he "defeated" General Kiba at Two River.

(Or, to be blunt, his plans worked and the common idiots fell for his scheme like bricks. Things were looking good!)

Indeed, the condition of our hero was a merry one, bright with much happiness and joy. How else could he express such gratitude and relief to these unaware people? That they could be so kind as to help out a poor thief, shrewd and sly and especially cunning in the ways of camouflage! A toast was proposed to each of them--no, two, but two more were given to the false hero. What a day indeed! And to think, all Hoi really needed to do was slip into some shoddy merchandise left behind by some careless wanderer, and he was a marvel!

Of course, he had enough guile to know that even these simpletons would find him out in the future, if not sooner. Therefore, having scored a success on that day, Hoi decided to conclude his so-called war stories, and would therefore dismiss himself from the premises. Having eaten and drank his fill in any case, the young thief's reasoning was proper. Even if he had been the hero he so copied off of, it was time for him to haunt somewhere else, and leave these people to their businesses.

(Or, to be blunt, Hoi was happy but figured that he'd get busted if he didn't leave quickly.)

And so, with a belly full of food and a smile as big as his arm, our beloved hero quietly dismissed himself from the room--but alas and alack, one of the more observant patrons asked to see proof of his claims! To validate his own heroism? To show that he was not, indeed, another false pretender (since Radat seemed to get so many)? To ascertain such truths? Why, Hoi might have been insulted, humiliated, and appalled at such accusations, and were he a smarter man, he would have indeed become incensed. But alas, poor Hoi's intellect only carried him so far, and he made reason with the doubtful man.

With but a simple yank of his sleeve, and a simpler pull of his glove, Hoi expressed to all patrons in that very bar that he was indeed the great hero Riou. After all, was there not the sign of the Bright Shield Rune on his hand? It was indeed the genuine article, drawn by a very good artist with a keen eye for such details. Had Hoi been in a crowd of more naïve persons, he might have gotten away with such a lie, and indeed, it seemed that he almost did. The trouble came when a patron realized that, Yes there was a Rune, but interestingly enough, it was on the wrong hand.

(Or, to be blunt, somebody asked to see the Bright Shield Rune for proof. Hoi had a counterfeit copy, and to make matters worse, it was on his left arm.)

The poor dope was almost lynched on the spot. The crowd gathered there beat him senseless, and forced a hot coal to sing the place where the false Rune had been marked in. Hoi's pain was quite dramatic, what with the beatings and the coal and the sheer hatred of the deceived--yet, for all the pain he experienced that day, young Hoi refused to reform his illegal ways, and set about yet again to find better pickings.

His travels would lead him to Rockaxe, where he had gathered a hundred knights together for a retelling of "his" famous battle with Solon Jhee, and where he would later be discovered by a knight that had just seen the real Riou wandering around the castle with his adopted sister. Needless to say, Hoi was fortunate to get out of that place alive.

Hoi next went to Greenhill to sup and steal, figuring that he could at least succeed a little in this astute locality. And at first, it seemed like his efforts were going to pay off; Hoi found good lodging in the inn, and a welcome supply of food and drink for his mouth to devour. The people began to adore him, and crowded round to hear stories and tales, and how he bravely spirited Lady Teresa away, and when he could be expected to bring her back.

But as usual, our hero messed the situation up. Everything was going rather well for him, until he slipped up and mentioned that he didn't even know who Teresa was. Of course, all the patrons in that inn knew that Lord Riou had carried her off to safety inside his castle, so to claim sudden amnesia was an offense punishable by death. Hoi escaped this mob to lie and steal another day, but received many bruises for his work.

(Or, to be blunt, the poor guy just had no luck anywhere else he went.)

Eventually, Hoi would meander off to another locality, one that bore familiar lands to him. His travels earned him yet another visit to Radat, wherein he assumed that the former patrons who had driven him away previously had long forgotten about the matter. Putting a gamble on his theory, Hoi entered into the tavern again (making sure his Bright Shield Rune was on the right hand) and announced that he, as the "hero", was there. His hopes were strengthened as the gathering of fools paid audience to him once more, and again gathered round him for stories and feasting.

Hoi told them a gigantic whopper, so big and false and untrue that even a child would not believe it--yet these adults, these grown men, were so engaged with his tales that they never realized the deception, nor did they realize anyone else coming into the place. Hoi dribbled on about "his" conquests, "his" achievements, and "his" dream for a future within the state, until he was interrupted yet again by a doubting Thomas.

Confident that no mistake could break the ruse he had formed, Hoi proudly showed them his right arm, where the image of a Bright Shield Rune had been etched in. Again, the gathered patrons admired it greatly--that is, until the thing began to become blurry. Poor Hoi, in his violent tirade of boasting, failed to realize that his palms were sweating at an alarming rate, and the heat they produced was causing this false Rune to, for lack of a better word, "melt".

(Or, to be blunt, Hoi went back to Radat to try again, and he was doing well despite having been there before, but he was once again discovered.)

Now Hoi was in a dilemma. This time, with the citizens of Radat having suffered twice from his deception, it appeared as if there was going to be no way out for him. Hiding or running would do him no good; this crowd wanted to lynch the young man, and to make sure that he never lived to steal again--or perform any other acts, legal or otherwise. Death was approaching him, but a savior still could be found, and at that moment, Hoi found such a rescuer in the guise of the true Lord Riou, whom nobody else recognized.

Having seen more impersonators than they dare imagine, the good people of Radat ganged up on the both of them, and perhaps it was only through the true hero's skill and mercy that either one of them were able to make it out alive. Hoi, feeling bruised but otherwise fine, had to thank his look-alike savior. Never did it occur to him that this had been the true Riou, and that he had been saved by the very man he was impersonating, until it was too late to do anything.

(Or, to be blunt, Riou came to rescue him and the two got beat.)

After that moment, our hero Hoi became indebted to the service of the Stupid Army, and performed at his very best levels whenever he was selected for a mission. More often than not, though, our esteemed hero seemed to cause more trouble than he prevented. Eventually he was released from the confines of Stupid Castle, and for awhile he went down the straight and narrow path, but quickly found out the error of his ways, and remained a thief to the end of his days.

I hope you all have enjoyed this remarkable tale of heroism, honesty, valor, virtues, and greatness. Perhaps there are even some among you who have derived a moral of some sorts from this magnificent tale, and if you have, all the more blessings go to you. If not, then I pray that you have at least enjoyed this tale to some measure, and that you shall return in the future to indulge yourselves on more masterpieces.

(Or, to be blunt, you all have just wasted your time on a crappy story. Now go home and eat a sandwich.)

The End