Heroquest Free Quests

[Mirtha Shikles]

Revisitand delve deeper into the rich story of the HeroQuest dungeon crawling adventure game. With the Frozen Horror expansion, players must destroy the evil Frozen Horror, a ferocious creature long banished, but has now returned to its ancient seat of power, and awaits Zargon's summons. The powerful Barbarian must survive dangerous solo quests and only then will fellow heroes join him. Immerse yourself in the fantasy with the stunning artwork, 21 detailed miniatures, full-color tiles, and 10 exciting quests not seen in the initial HeroQuest Game System. (Requires HeroQuest Game System to play. Sold separately.) The game has limitless replayability, and you can also build their own quests and create their own stories. Gather friends together for an exciting night of tabletop gameplay in an epic battle of good and evil. The game is for 2-5 players, ages 14 and up. Avalon Hill and all related trademarks and logos are trademarks of Hasbro, Inc.

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Have you heard of the Hardest Geezer? This is, without a doubt, the most common question I\u2019m asked when people discover where I am and what I\u2019m doing. My invariable answer to this invariable question is yes, but for those for whom it isn\u2019t, let me enlighten you. Russ Cook \u2013 the self-styled Hardest Geezer \u2013 is a British man currently running the length of Africa who has, at the time of writing, run for 304 days, covered 13,270 kilometres, and raised over \u00A3180,000 for charity in the process. I, on the other hand, am a British man currently cycling (most of-) the length of Africa and have, at the time of writing, covered a little under 5,000 kilometres, taken 3 holidays along the way, and even enjoyed a brief hiatus in the form of a family Christmas at home. I think you can agree, in the eternal words of Jules Winfield, that this ain\u2019t the same ballpark, it ain\u2019t the same league, it ain\u2019t even the same fuckin\u2019 sport. Literally. But this doesn\u2019t stop the comparisons rolling in. And each time they do, I laugh it off, rattle off some attempt at humorous deflection, and leave feeling a little deflated about the scale of my own adventure.

Now, a feat like Russ\u2019 is of such a monumentally different scale to mine that these comparisons don\u2019t tend to cut too deep. But sometimes things come closer to home. Last year, I let a friend from university in on my embryonic plan to cycle from London to Cape Town. No way! he said. I\u2019ve got another friend who\u2019s just set off to do the same thing! Now, this was a bit more of a kick in the egoic teeth. As it turned out, this friend of his was also 24; he happened to study the same subject as I did at the very university \u2013 in fact, the very college \u2013 that I\u2019d suffered a bitter rejection from at the sensitive age of 17; and he\u2019d had a three month head start. Same sport; same league; same ballpark. It was difficult not to let this revelation dilute my excitement for the adventure ahead.

At this point, perhaps some background might be useful. From as young as I can remember, I\u2019ve always had a strong desire to swim against the current. This has presented itself in various ways over time. In my early years, I\u2019d regularly borrow my older sister\u2019s clothes and dress in them (quite literally) from the bottom up to become my alter-ego, Rosie. In my early teens, I made a concerted effort to rebel; sex, drugs and questionable tattoos took precedence. Then, in my late teens, when putting any effort into school work was considered social insanity, I affected a monkish resolve, knuckling down on the academic front and even announcing sobriety on occasion \u2013 with varying levels of success \u2013 while my peers were on a more naturally-timed rebellious trajectory. After university, I broke free from the shackles of a predetermined career in banking \u2013 the natural continuation of a degree in Economics \u2013 to enter the start-up world, taking home a (bottom-heavy) fraction of the salary my city-slicker friends commanded. That brings us to now, where I\u2019ve decided to hang my career out to dry while I take to the road in search of adventure.

I\u2019ve indulged in this selective autobiography to illustrate a point. And that point is motivation. Where does it come from? Why do we do what we do? After plenty of reflection during long hours in the saddle, I\u2019ve discovered that my own motivation can often be reaction. I mean this in both senses; reacting against the status quo, and the reaction you receive as a result. It feels exposing to put this in black and white, but if I\u2019m being truly honest with myself, I draw a certain sense of pride from bucking a trend. When I think about it, even the route I\u2019m taking was motivated by a reaction to something external. Why Africa? I\u2019m often asked. Well, a year-or-so back, a very close friend of mine also happened to set off on a multi-month bike tour. He decided to cycle from the door and, with another friend, covered 15,000km from London to Almaty, following the West-East axis. So, early last year, when I too decided that I\u2019d like to take a multi-month bike tour, cycling from the door, my choice of route was ultimately a reaction to his. West-East was taken. That left North-South. From London, to cover the distance I had in mind, North-South meant Africa. So, as you can imagine, discovering this wasn\u2019t such a unique idea after all came as a slightly unwelcome surprise.

You might already be aware of the difference between intrinsic and extrinsic motivation. Intrinsic motivation is a drive that comes from within, whereas extrinsic motivation is drawn from someone, somewhere, or something else. For a long time I\u2019ve sensed that intrinsic motivation is the ideal; a pure, distilled energy that wells up and remains untempered by anything or anyone around you. Extrinsic motivation, on the other hand, feels more fickle; it\u2019s subject to factors that lie beyond your control, and seems to ebb and flow accordingly. I tend to sit pretty firmly on this side of the fence.

It\u2019s funny how we often focus on what we want, glossing over the more interesting question of why we want it. Sometimes, peeling back that extra layer can be uncomfortably revealing. As I\u2019ve been pedalling, I\u2019ve been peeling. And I\u2019ve landed on an interesting question. Would I still do this ride if no-one knew about it? In essence: how intrinsic is my motivation? For a while, the answer remained beyond my grasp. Instead, I was left with more questions. I\u2019ve chosen to write a blog as I travel, which means I\u2019m making a concerted effort to make people aware of what I\u2019m doing. Is this choice performative? Is the trip itself the motivator, or is it all just in aid of having something to say? Questions on questions on questions.

Luckily, in an existential pinch, I have my Grandma to look out for me. A day or two back, she emailed over something she\u2019d read about The Hero\u2019s Quest. The language is grandiose, I know, and I don\u2019t intend to adopt any heroic implications about my own trip. Instead, the hero\u2019s quest is used to cover any manner of personal adventure, big or small. The piece first paints the traditional image of a hero\u2019s quest; one that\u2019s found in countless forms in classical mythology. Typically, a challenger journeys to find a new life-affirming perspective and (crucially) returns renewed with energy, ready to share the wisdom they\u2019ve discovered with others. The piece goes on to explain how today, this picture has morphed beyond recognition; the focus of the hero\u2019s quest has transposed from the external to the internal.

Interestingly enough, this classic tradition of a true \u201Chero\u201D is not our present understanding at all. There is little social matrix to our present use of the word. A \u201Chero\u201D now is largely about being bold, attractive, rich, famous, talented, or \u201Cfantastic\u201D by oneself, and often for oneself, whereas the classic hero is the one who \u201Cgoes the distance,\u201D whatever that takes, and then has plenty left over for others. True heroism serves the common good or it is not really heroism at all.

As I\u2019ve pondered the idea of the traditional hero\u2019s quest, I\u2019ve come to realise that often the motivation to undertake an adventure is less important than the impact that the journey has on you and, more importantly, on those around you. By this logic, the whole point of setting off on an adventure is to share what you learn with others; to take an external focus, rather than hoarding the experience for yourself. Suddenly, the idea of extrinsic motivation doesn\u2019t sound so bad; and whether or not the adventure is record-breaking, earth-shattering, or even particularly novel pails into insignificance.

I hope that by sharing my experiences from the road, I might encourage other people to have a crack at their own quest. And I hope that the scale (or similarity) of other people\u2019s adventures doesn\u2019t undermine the significance of our own. Using Dogberry\u2019s wisdom: comparisons are odorous. I\u2019m still working to understand the why of my own adventure. But really, it seems that the most important thing is what you learn and how you use it. Is the impact personal and private, or does it flow over, rippling out to resource the world that we\u2019re part of? This feels like a question worth asking. So, as you sit and dream about your next adventure \u2013 whether it\u2019s trailblazing or following a well-worn path, whether big or small \u2013 I hope that you\u2019ll let this question percolate. Go on your quests; learn what you can; and, most importantly, share what you learn with the world.

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