75 Million Gold Contest!

"When you live by the sword, you often die by it aswell." My sword is often damaged and rusty. Which is why I have nicked named myself "Rustie"

It seems like ages ago I gave myself that little speech. I find myself alone again, without family or faction. I must gather my resources and forge a new beginning. I can't waste any more time wondering what happened to the others, its enough to know they moved on without me.
My search for a true clerics path begins today!
All of these thoughts tumble around inside my head as I fly aimlessly around Perfect World. I spot a familuar jagged peak and set a path towards it.
Valley of the Death it is.

As I land not so gracefully with a bump and a quick recovery, a quick scan of the area assures me there was no witnesses, Thank goodness! "dam these new boots anyway" grumble quietly.
I have decided atleast what what my first action has to be. I must write a post looking for employment perhaps a new faction, anything that will help get me back on my toes as it were.

I find myself a comfortable place in the sun, and search around inside my back pack for parchment and pencil. <"twists finger around ponytail> were
to begin ... hmmm

________________________________________________________________

Name: Rustie
Age: 80 <wow does that seem old?>scratch's that last bit out.
Profession: Cleric

Attributes:

Hard working, I dont mind long hours.
Honest, no really I am.
Mature, no really I am.
Friendly, ok well thats abit of a stretch, im painfully shy and not talkative.
Buffs and revives are free.

Experience:

FB's well I can accompany most aslong as cordinates are given, as I have a poor since of direction.

Boss kills refer to above.

TT I have little experience there but I have never felt like I was missing much. <taps pencil against knee> perhaps alittle too honest.

TW I have never been involved with either but no reason why just never came up before.

PvP I have never killed another, but I honestly have thought agreat deal about it on occasion.

_________________________________________________________________

I quickly scan over what I have written down so far, wow I guess that doesn't amount to much once its all down on paper. <sighs> perhaps I should "twink" it up abit to make it look more important, <gives head a good shake> lets try and not make a bad situation worse by lying about it.

I could continue alone after all, its not like I havent done it before. I think to myself. I take the parchment and fold it in half placing it in my bag. I pack the rest of my belongings, and take to the sky for the long flight back to Archasuar. Still undecided what to do, wondering what will I do if this doesn't work.

---

wow I havent written anything since old school days <sighs> oh well thats my best shot at the gold!

*WARNING/NOTE/CAUTION: DO NOT READ THIS IN ORDER. At the end of each paragraph, you will be given a bolded code. Copy (ctrl+c) and Paste (crtl+p) it into the “find” window (ctrl+f) of your web browser to be taken to the next part of the story you’ve chosen.*




[start] The collaboration of your faction has begun; from all across the map, your friends and teammates fly to meet in one single spot. Everyone’s brimming with excitement, but for what reason? War had been declared only one night ago, of course! The battle for Thousand Streams was scheduled to start in less than an hour; you have the first fight slot at 20:00. You stand with your head high and back straight; your long rusty brown hair is picked up in the wind. You fuss with it, stubbornly blaming your height for the amount of wind you attract. With that, your self-consciousness gets the better of you, and you look down at what you feel is your mediocre body and start shuffling around in your armor. Getting over that, joy overcomes you: it has been a while since you’ve last seen the players of your faction all in the same place that you forgot of their great diversity of class. From tall to short, red hair to black, untamed to human, and armored to fashioned; you begin to examine the gear of those who have grown stronger than you. After all, you’re dying to see whom you’ve surpassed, and whom you’ve fallen behind. There are talks of strategy and technique all around you as in-faction duels are held for practice. Watching the swords fly, axes slam, and magic soar, you begin itching for a fight yourself. Wouldn’t you know it, you were just challenged to a duel by a fellow BM! However, he’s wielding axes; do you –
- Accept?

---

acptduel
- Decline?

---

decduel


[sctsquad] You’re rather afraid of being in the heat of battle, so you decide to join one of two scouting squads. The squad contains two archers, a cleric, two wizards, yourself, and is being sent down path C. However, only you and the archers have mounts. Between the six of you, the mounted players decide to charge out ahead of the other three to check for players; that way, the cleric and wizards can head to the middle path if there’s no action on your path. You all buff each other, go over last minute advice and strategy, mount up, and the message everyone was waiting for appears. Everyone enters the instance. You and the archers speed down the right path, ahead of even those attacking on the center path. A few seconds of running, and you’re roughly halfway down the C path. Then you notice you’ve dismounted, your charm ticks, and you acquire a target. What’s going on? You forgot to check the sky! Just as you look up, three squads of the opposing faction drop from the sky and wipe you and the archers from the path. Before returning to town, you watch as even more enemy players flood from the other end of the path. You alert the rest of your faction of the full force coming from the right. Then you return to the allied base. While you ask the cleric for buffs, the reply is an unfortunate “no”, because the force headed for our HQ also rolled through them. Back in your base, you see your extra faction members head to defend the right gate. A few minutes of fight, and all but the cat squads were back in the base. Heads began to roll; players were dropping left and right from both sides. Then catastrophe strikes! Though we seemingly had the edge, cat squads from the defending faction rolled in the left gate and began attacking the crystal. Hands gripping your blades, you started to take leadership of your squad. You began to call out targets and orders:
- “Focus attacks on the Barbarians! Stop the catapults!”

---

atkbarb
- “Take out the Clerics! They’re the ones keeping everyone alive!” -- atkcler
- “Team up on the Archers! They’re killing us from a distance!”

---

atkarch


[atkbarb] You call out to your squad, “focus attacks on the Barbarians! Stop the catapults!” Between the six of you: wizards and clerics dealing magic damage, archers firing ranged stuns and effects, and your melee mastery, you all take down one of many barbs. Cooperatively targeting the next barb, you being to question the efficiency of attacking through cleric healing. Just as that though crosses your mind, more of your faction jumps in on the attack. This barb falls quicker than the last. This strategy clicks, and everyone beings to tackle the opposing catapult pullers. Everything seems to be going well, but you watch as the clerics in the sky begin to resurrect the barbs that didn’t go back to base! It’s time for a quick decision –
- Keep on the barbs

---

kbarbs
- Take out the clerics

---

kcleric


[atkbm] You knew your faction would be fighting twice as well if it weren’t for the constant enemy blademaster stun. Rallying a few ally BMs, you group up and begin to cleave through the stunning opposition. But this was a hard fight; half the time, half the brawlers were stunned. Surely there was a lucky fail from an enemy Roar now and again, but in the end, teamwork closed the gap. With roughly four to five on one BM fights, more and more of your allies gained freedom from the obnoxious stuns. Further, with a weaker melee force, allied clerics, wizards, and venos became more useful without having to worry about physical damage. Axe and Sword-wielding blademasters Sprinted in, kicking up earth in their tracks; barbarians charged, wheeling the great catapults; archers soared majestically over the unforgiving walls with their right hand aflame: the push into their headquarters was successful. Set up began; dirt and dust whirled up in a cyclone as the fiery twister of Dragon’s Breath was channeled by numerous wizards around the enemy crystal. The sky cried and ground shook as bolts of lightning came crashing from the heavens as clerics summoned the power of Tempest. Phoenixes shrieked as they dove from above under the mighty command of their venomancers. The stage was set, the elements were on our side, and the end was near. Any foolish enough to leave the safe zone sealed were promptly dealt with. As the crystal began to crack, you could hear the cries of the enemy, begging for mercy, dying to maintain their reputation as the strongest. While the dealer dealt the enemy a great hand, yours was just that much greater. There was no hope, nothing left, utter destruction stood within their walls. But all you could do was stand there and laugh. With your blades gleaming in the light of the moon, you take to your Myriad Sword Stance, and watch as the magic daggers swirl about. VICTORY! It was finally over: a forty-minute triumph over the titans that held Thousand Streams. With a quick change of color, the world became aware. You could hear the shouts of joy all the way from Archosaur, and see the extravagant celebratory fireworks down in Dreamweaver. Your rival walks over and pats you on the back, “just think, all of that noise, all of that light is for us.”


[acptduel] Blinded by excitement, you eagerly accept. Practically foaming at the mouth, you stare down your spiky haired friend. Full of yourself, you call out, “if you’re not careful, I’ll be dyeing those white locks of yours red!” He laughs, “let me spare my breath and have my dueling speak for me.” You both take your battle stances…3…2…1…FIGHT! You run towards your rival and ready Roar of the Pride. But wait, it won’t channel; you had no chi! Your opponent gets off the first stun, and begins hammering your health. You helplessly wait for the effect to wear off as axes bludgeon you. Free from stun, you resort to Aeolian Blade to stun and deal damage. Luckily, the effect landed, and you begin to swing and slice with your blades at the stunned enemy. Gaining chi from basic attacks, you’re able to cast Roar of the Pride as the stun wears off your rival. Stunned again, the duelist takes more and more damage from you. But the few seconds are up, your stun wears off, and things take a turn for the worst. His Roar’s cool-down was gone, and after he stuns you with it, he uses Diamond Sutra to regain the health he’s lost. The duel doesn’t last much longer after that. As you’re pummeled by Drake Bash, Fissure, and Heaven’s Flame, you watch your health drop, and the duel ends. What went wrong? The faction mate you just dueled suggested you buff up with Aura of the Golden Bell and get at least two sparks before entering a duel. He says better luck next time, and gives you a bronze HP charm, telling you you’ll need all the help you can get. He walks off laughing.
code---> aftduel <---code


[stksquad] You were placed in an offensive squad, coupled with five other blademasters. Dubbed “stun team 1”, you all follow closely behind the cat squads; some on foot, others by air, waiting for the right moment. Fortunately, the jaunt to the first tower set-up was an easy one. On top of that, no towers were built! With great luck, everyone binds to the nearby pillars for an easy teleport upon death. Spirits high, the squads continue down the center path. There was no resistance met until the enemy base appeared in the distance. We saw them; they were waiting; stationary and solemn like sentinels. They would have seemed cocky if it weren’t for their large numbers and rapid-fire turret setup. With nothing in our way, all the strike squads mobilized from behind the catapults, and began the assault. Everyone was trigger-happy; whenever a target was acquired, the player would run off to fight, which tended to result in a slaughter from the turrets. All the strike squads were over excited, as too many would be pulled in range of the clerics, who proceeded to cast Tempest. The main offensive was gone; bodies lie all around the enemy gate, and still the opposition stood motionless waiting for the rest of the faction. Everyone revived back in the base. Some foolishly ran back to battle via the gates, others took the teleport to the binding pillars. Unfortunately, those who were smart were punished. The teleport took them right into the heat of battle, and unaware of the field, were easily taken out by veno phoenixes and axe bm aoe. Morale was gone, and those who died took a seat on the steps by the revive platform. They knew it was over, they didn’t want any more ticks on their charm, but at the same time they wanted to watch the end; they wanted to see death walk through the gates and reap our headquarters of life. Squads were either pushed back or killed, and all ended up against the walls of our base as catapults reeked havoc on everything we were trying to defend. DEFEAT, the words stung deep in your chest, and you wait to be taken from the instance. The world floods with speak of congratulations to the defending faction, and coarse and hurtful remarks towards the failing attackers. Talk of trying again next week circles your faction. At least you’re persistent!

[kcleric] You jump into the sky and mount your flying sword, try flying off to take the clerics on your own without saying anything. But the second you’re airborne, arrows stick your back. You painfully turn around and face the target, but dread to see the distance between you. You take to the ground and Cloud Sprint your way through the battlefield, but to no avail. Through a combination of stun and ranged attacks, the enemy archer annihilates you. Things begin to fall apart; teammates drop and walk back into battle. Sealed and useless, they die again. The cycle leads to the ultimate downfall of your faction’s crystal. DEFEAT appears, and all the players of your faction groan and curse. “GG”s exchange, and the world fills with chat of congratulations for both sides; for the defending faction’s victory, and the attacking faction’s twenty-four minute battle; after all, no one though you’d last that long.



[kbarbs] You figure that if you just stick with your team, you’ll out kill the clerics healing and reviving the barbs. Roar of the Pride stuns a wave of enemies as you pound on the barbarians; followed up by Drake Sweep and Myriad Sword Stance, your AoE skills damage many, but drop few. Your team starts panicking between deaths, and everyone begins to realize there’s no chance left. You target the HQ while waiting for the seal to wear off from reviving, and to your dismay find it to be further gone than 90%. It was over, so for the hell of it, you run out, self-buffed and swords ‘a blazing, in hopes to get some PvP kills. DEFEAT. Sixty seconds before you leave the blood-battered wasteland; the shattered attempted that was a territory war. Your faction seemed incredibly frustrated. They knew they could have won, but the utter obliteration of their forces killed many of the fighter’s spirits. Numerous people left the faction immediately after, and the broken family turned its head from territory wars.

[aftduel] After equipping the charm your rival gave you, you begin chatting with the higher-ups in the faction. They go over the plan of attack for tonight, ideas are bounced back and forth against players, and then talk of squads begins. The leader of your faction makes the call that he wants at least one squad on both the side paths to check for any forces. Then there are cat squads, set up to take out towers and the HQ via Barbarian-pulling catapults and teammates healing. Lastly there will be strike squads, put together to rush the middle after the cat squads and start taking out most of the opposition. So which squads will you request to join?
- Scout ----> sctsquad
- Cat

---

> catsquad
- Strike ----> stksquad


[atkarch] You figure if you take out the long-range fighters, there will be less of a burden for everyone else. Looking around, you find not too many archers on the field. With the rest of your squad, everyone makes a b-line for one grounded elf. Unfortunately, you’re her target out of the six of you. Stunned, you can only watch the rest of your team advance as the arrows fly at you. Your charm ticks from a lucky crit, and she drops just as you were nearing death, yourself. You thank your squad as you wait for your charm to tick again and heal you before acquiring a new target. This time, you plan on using Will of the Bodhisattva to counter the first stun arrow from the archer. Someone in your party falls, and they tell you an archer got a lucky crit. You pop Will and started running towards the fallen comrade, hastily searching for the archer. With some luck, you spot the airborne archer, and take to the sky after him. While the Bodhisattva skill’s speed boost doesn’t stack in the air, the immunity to stun and slow is still effective, and it successfully stops the stun arrow. You accelerate to catch up, but the archer is already firing at you. Another lucky crit ticks your charm before you get to him, but that window of opportunity was all the difference. Though you’ve made it to melee range, another arrow stuns you, the archer flies off, and at max range, finishes you off. Alive with a seal, you witness the worst. Our base was filled with the enemy, fighting off what resistance we offered. They must have finished coming down the side paths while we were archer hunting. Before the seal even wore off, DEFEAT. You had pulled too many allies from the fight to tackle the archers; the utter waste of time lead to a weaker defensive force, and your HQ was under attack far before you felled your first archer. The world wasn’t surprised, and the comments read your mind; “twenty minutes? someone needs to learn better strategy.”

[atkcler] The clerics in your squad begin to stack Iron Heart on you and the archers, and you three take to the sky to eliminate the clerics. You accelerate your aerogear to speed over to the first target. Archers provide ranged damage and extra stun as you, one by one, tear through the enemy’s healers. Everything was going smoothly, all players were executing their jobs flawlessly, like clockwork. The more clerics fell, the more barbs followed. Then, operations hit a snag; several clerics channel Tempest, and most archers and blademasters helplessly fall to the ground. Some grab resurrections from free clerics, others are too antsy and just return to the base. Enough exchanges leave both sides at a stalemate just outside the walls of our base. During downtime, waiting for the seal to be lifted, your squad starts to spread the word of strategy. Members of the strike squad take to the air, and the clerics start to crash to the ground. The tempests pass, and we start to push down the path. Faction talk goes round that the enemy must have underestimated us: there are no turrets anywhere outside their base. There are none on the roads, none by the walls…none. What’s more is there are no members of the opposing faction out on the roads since we rid them from our base. Whether they’re on the side paths remains to be known, but the walk down the center was empty, sky and all. Everyone dismounted, buffed up, and ran on foot together through the threshold that was the center gate of the enemy faction. It was time to win. The base was engorged with every possible member of the opposing faction. What’s more is no barb was pulling a catapult, but there were all in human form. It was clear that they drew the line here, and were prepared to force us back to our HQ. It was game-face time; our catapult pullers ran in and stood firm as the catapults worked on their crystal. Their respective clerics were stacking IH, and every other squad ran in to drop whoever they could get their weapons in. The battle within the enemy stronghold was long, but the cooperation between faction members kept catapult toting barbs standing, healing clerics flying, and most dds killing. Both turrets were down, and the HQ was nearing its end. Players began to stop fighting and begin trash talking. QQ spewed from the failure of the defending faction, and uproarious delight gleamed from the successful attackers. VICTORY. The world was shocked. In under an hour, Thousand Streams was taken. Many observers were skeptical, saying there must have been a lack in strategy from the defenders. Others called it a fluke, saying the attackers will lose Streams next week. But no matter who said what, the map read true; Thousand Streams was under new ownership!

[atkwiz] Sandstorm and Gush are becoming far too troublesome and agitating for you. Alone, you take off to solo wizards one by one because you know they’re weak against physical damage. Members of your party watch you run off and call out, asking what you’re doing. You tell them, and they scream back that that’s suicide. But you’re far too confident to let them stop you. Picking out your first wizard, you Cloud Sprint over and begin stunning and bashing the poor caster. But you’re not doing as much damage as usual…what’s the deal? You check back with your team: “most of their wizards are wearing light armor! Stacking with their physical defense buff, you’re useless!” Before you could curse out the light armor path, you were knocked on your butt. Will of the Phoenix put distance between you, and the wizard began to bog you down with slowing and powerful spells. By the time you got back within melee range, you dropped to the wizard’s feet, exhausted and out of breath. Unfortunately, you set an example for other clueless players, as bad as it was. Alive back in your base, you hear people dying off, groaning about wizard’s ranged spells and knock back. Before your seal could wear off, you see the enemy faction pushing back our resistance on path B, all the way to the gate. Good thing there were turrets put up, or who knows how much damage the crystal could have taken by now. But that fear was soon to be a reality. As you run out of gate A and come to the side of the huge brawl, you see one tower down, and the second beginning to crumble. Whatever difference you were going to make running yourself into the center of the enemy and getting maimed, you knew it to be better off retuning inside the base and preparing to catch the incoming force from B gate. You buff up and take a sneaky position just to the left of the entrance so you wouldn’t be in immediate sight upon anyone’s arrival. You begin stacking your Alter Marrow skills in hopes of having two sparks and Myriad Sword ready for the enemy. To your delight, you accomplish just that, but where’s the enemy? No one’s walked through the gate since the turrets fell? You look back within your base to see only your faction…so what was going on? You peak around the corner and look out of the center arch, and your charm ticks. Frightened, you run out looking for what you figured was an archer, and you’d be right. Problem was, she was in the air, and you’ve just hit the ground outside your base after being loaded with arrowheads from a Barrage. Before reviving, the alerts begin, “HQ at 70% health!” Alive, but sealed, you helplessly watch the end begin. The crystal and ground alike resembled porcupines; arrowheads were buried deep within while quills from countless Barrages remained visible like an omen. The seal was gone, and like any good blademaster, you were stacking your chi the whole time. You dash in and spam as many AoE skills as possible: Fan of Flames, Drake Sweep, Roar of the Pride, Myriad Sword Stance. You’re unsure of how many you killed, if any, but the alarms grew more dire, “HQ at 35% health!” Those with the strength carried on the battle, while weaker members began to give up hope. You did your best to rally as many as possible, “win or lose, we’re in this together, as a family, for fun!” The sidelines emptied, and everyone knew to give it all; we weren’t going down without a hell of a fight! DEFEAT! But it wasn’t one of sorrow. In fact, many were glad. As a team, a family, we showed the world we were a force to be reckoned with. Lasting more than an hour against the strongest on the server who were bent on keeping Thousand Streams at all costs, morale within the faction was pretty high. On top of that, the world recognized that strength, as news and passive conversation seemed to start with just the drop of a now popular faction name.

[atkveno] Before you could suggest anything, a flock of phoenixes took to battle, and your squad was the target! You take to the sky to protect the clerics from the pesky fowl, swinging and batting at them with your blades. But this was a fight you couldn’t win; any time progress was made, it regenerated health. You’re aware of the Heal Pet skill, but this phoenix’s rate of recovery was absurd! There must be more than one veno on it. “Forget the birds, get the trainers!” With that wise word of advice, you’re forced to leave the ally cleric to fend for herself as you seek out the venomancers manipulating the firebirds. Fly swords, mantas, and wings appear by your side; you’ve managed to pull together an attack squad without so much as a word! Everyone teams up, two or three on one fights begin in hopes of eradicating the flame-headed chickens. The only thing making the scuffles difficult was the numerous sources of damage. Extra venos sent their flying pets to aid their faction; bramble returned a large percent of melee damage; and the venos sending pets as well as those under attack were casting spells! As ludicrous as it sounds, you begin to notice that the battles were rather fair. Some groups from our faction would fall, and in exchange, two or three venos would take a seat. Everyone’s spirits begin to heighten, until a terrible realization: the venos that were team-healing one phoenix have phoenixes of their own! While one venomancer would fall, there was another with a firebird ready to take her place. All time and effort put into dropping the wall of flaming fowl was useless. From the bm’s to the barbs, and the chickens to the clerics; there was too much for what force we had at their base to handle. The rope in this tug of war was starting to slip through our hands. There were incomparable numbers of pets and players in the enemy faction versus what we brought to the battle. Worried, every un-sealed player ran back down path B, only to run through what might as well have been barbed wire. The unstoppable force was mobile, and was on a rampage down the path to our front gate! There was quick talk of defensive strategy, but none sounded like a winning plan. Everyone was to stick to basics; team up, and last as long as you can. DEFEAT! What an upset, victory was in the palm of your hands at the start. If only you could have kept up the heat, maybe their forces would have crumbled with time. However, that’s a big “maybe.” With a “not-so-surprised” reaction from the rest of the world, plans are already underway to take what should have been yours this day, next week.

[decduel] You’re too excited to duel wisely at the moment, so you decline. The opponent asked again, but you declined a second time. Feeling sympathetic for the persistent BM, you decide to buff up with Aura of the Golden Bell, and stack your Alter Marrow skills until you gain full chi. Once finished preparing, the duel request was sent once more. “I’ll lop those locks from your head. That way I can see you cry when you lose,” he says mockingly. Humoring the axe BM, you reply: “don’t get too cocky, it’s not one of your redeeming qualities, you silly white-haired blademaster.” Accepting the duel, you run in and use Roar of the Pride. Stunned for six seconds, you proceed to use Spirit Chaser for damage, and Draw Blood for damage over time. The stun wears off, but you quickly follow up with Aeolian Blade. On top of doing more damage, you’ve stunned the rival a second time for three more seconds, during which you attack with stronger skills: Drake Sweep, Atmos Strike, and Myriad Sword Stance. The duel promptly ended afterwards with the same exchange of skills, and your faction-mate compliments you on how strong you’ve gotten. Good sport that he is, he tosses a silver HP charm your way, saying he figures you’ll want it for the upcoming war, but doubts you’ll make it tick.
code---> aftduel <---code


[catsquad] With a squad of two barbarians pulling catapults, two clerics healing the barbs, and two blademasters (one of which being you) to protect the clerics, you enter the instance and set out down the middle path on foot. Buffed up, you and the other BM are forced to stand by as the cat squads come to the middle towers. The barbs stand still in their tiger form, catapults attacking the left tower. The clerics stand fearless, targeting the barbs incase of any needed healing, and you and your rival from earlier team up as you see the opposition come running down the path. The strike squads behind you move forward for backup, and the first encounter is underway! With strike on the ground, you take to the sky to eliminate any hovering casters. Between you and your teammate, you stun lock and kill clerics, wizards and venos one by one. The towers fall, and all middle squads advance. As the push to their HQ strengthens, we get calls of forces moving down paths A and C. The faction leader speaks up, calls off all scout squads, and orders them to come down path B. We were to finish the battle quickly. The second encounter begins at the entrance, but there’s so much mayhem and crossfire that some warriors aren’t sure what to do. You take the helm and call out orders:
- “Drop the Blademasters! They’ll kill our Clerics!” ---> atkbm
- “Kill the Wizards! Their AOE is too strong!”

---

> atkwiz
- “Get the Venos! Their pets are everywhere!”

---

> atkveno

well no story here i'm not into all that big story writing o_O
nd i've seen some pretty loong story's here :^)


so just a goodbye and share me your secret on how u got to that amount of money b:laugh

where do we post the entry exactly tho? xD

"So Harpy Wraith has fled from this area." Hojo said as he stared at the camp fire. "She must be afraid of us."

"Possibly." Xaldain replied as he watched the red flames dance. "But it could be her plan to lure us somewhere."

"True." Hojo sighed. "She is a clever one. I'll give her that. But she will still go down."

Xaldain nodded before looking over his shoulder at everyone else sleeping. "We should get our rest before heading to Nameless Isle. Who knows what's there."

"Agreed." Hojo replied with a nod before laying down and going to sleep.

---

Three hours later

---

"Xaldain..." Serenity spoke softly as she sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "You're still up?"

"Ya, I couldn't sleep." Xaldain responded in a low tone so he would not wake the others.

Serenity sat down next to him. "Is it because of Harpy Wraith?"

He nodded. "Yes, and..." He looked her in the eyes. "This is becoming more dangerous."

"I know..." She sighed. "But we must continue on."

"We have to be on our guard now that she knows we are pursuing her." He stated along with a sigh.

"Of course." Serenity gave a half smile. "As long as we all are not seperated then we should be fine."

"I hope so..." He was now deep in thought. He wanted Serenity to be safe, but what if he and the others were not strong enough? "Maybe she should go back to Plume where it's safe." he thought to himself.

"Xaldain."

"Hmm?"

"You aren't thinking about sending me back home, are you?"

He blinked. Were Clerics mind readers now? "No, not at all." he lied.

She crossed her arms and one of her brows raised in suspicion. "Oh really?"

"Ok, I was." he admitted nervously. She read him like a book. Either she was a psychic or he was a really bad lier.

"I knew it." she looked away from him and closed her eyes. "I told you before that I didn't want to stay in Plume while everyone else fights."

He sighed. "I know. I just don't want you to get hurt. That's all."

"I understand that, but I don't want anyone I know to die or get hurt. I want to help. For you to say go home and be safe, it sounds like you don't need me to accompany you." She looked down at the ground. "Like... I am useless to you all..." She finished in a low voice.

"You aren't useless, Serenity." He replied as he lifted her chin up with his pointer finger. "You saved my life more than once and you taught me how to use a bow and arrow. I wouldn't make it this far without you. You will never be useless to any of us." He said to her with a smile. "Serenity, I care deeply for you and I promise to protect you with my life."

She shook her head. "No, Xaldain. I don't want you to place your life on the line for me."

He took her hands in his as their eyes met one another. "Serenity, I owe you my life. It is only fair for me to protect you with it. I would gladly without regret, sacrifice my life for your's. I just care about you that much."

She hugged him tightly and half smiled. "Then I pray that it doesn't come to that." Slowly she closed her eyes. "Please don't let it come to that."

---

Nameless Isle

---

Hojo kicked some sand and sighed. "Still no luck."

"What now?" Serenity asked while looking around for any sign of Wraiths.

"We'll have to keep moving north." Xaldain stated.

"This place gives me the creeps." Stripes said. His reddish-brown eyes glanced right to left in paranoia.

"Why? The sky is clear and this place is so peaceful." Maria said to Stripes.

Luna wiggled her noes. "Something smells odd."

"What?" Maria asked.

Luna's fox ears twitched. She was about to respond, but flames surrounded everyone.

The circle around them was of smoke and everyone was coughing. There was no way out of the flaming circle.

"Ahh!!" Serenity's scream cut through the coughing.

"Serenity!!" Xaldain yelled and held out his hand towards her , but she was grabbed by something that looked like it was made of gold. The flames had stopped, but there was heavy smoke that was unlifted. A mightly force hit him and the whole area turned black. When Xaldain woke up, he ound himself alone. Quickly, he got to his feet and glanced frantically around for his friends. "Serenity! Hojo! Maria! Luna! Stripes!" he shouted, but there were no replies from anyone. They were sneek attacked and he could not do anything about it. "Dammit." he growled and punched the ground with his right fist. How could they all be jumped like that? If anything happened to Serenity...

"Ah, so you're finally awake." a voice called out. It was a light voice but not too light. The master of that voice came from out the bushes. It was a venomancer. She wore a red kimono and had light tanned skin. Her black hair ended at her shoulders and her eyes were blood red. She had black horned wings peeking out her head and a devil's tail wagging behind her. However there was something off about her. "I'm glad. It would be no fun killing you while you're sleeping."

Xaldain took out his crossbow and pointed it at her. "Where are the others?"

She laughed a really corny laugh. "They will be fish food very soon." An arrow passed her face and she only grinned. "They will be living sacrifices for Mantavip The Great!" Her lips pursed. "But enough about them. It's just you and me." Her hands clasped together and she placed her cheek on the back of her hand. "Oh this is so wonderful, I get to fight a cute one. Those wings on your head are simply adorable!"

Xaldain arched one of his brows. What was with this girl?

"Your wings will look so much better than these bony horns on my head." Her eyes sparkled, while looking at him.

Xaldain glared at her. He did not have time for this. He would find the others himself. He shot another arrow at her, but suprisingly his arrow broke in half. He blinked then saw what she was holding in her right hand... a whip?

She wagged her pointer finger to scold him. "Shame on you. Trying to shoot me when I'm talking. You're being naughty." She bit her bottom lip. "I wonder how your blood tastes." she stated before dashing towards him.

"You have to be kiding." he thought to himself as he jumped back from her swinging the cruel rope.

---

The others

---

"Well this is great." Hojo said sarcastically. He was tied and held still by a fat man made of gold.

The others were in the same position as Hojo. Their legs and hands were tied behind them.

"Where is Xaldain?!" Serenity asked with big eyes. Did she jinx it and he died? No, that can not be it. Xaldain must still be alive.

---

Back to Xaldain

---

"Hmm, you're a good opponent after all." the venomancer said with glee. Xaldain had shot her twice with his arrows. However, the wounds were not fatal.

"I have to end this quick and find the others fast." Xaldain thought to himself. This whip-swinging venomancer was not making it easy for him to fight. The whip hit his cheek and left a long cut across it. He started to bleed instantly.

The rope returned back towards its owner. The venomancer grinned and licked some of Xaldain's blood off the whip's end. "Mhmm... Your blood tastes great." She lunged towards him again. "I must have more. More blood!"

Xaldain winced at the sting the whip left. It was worse than the minor ones he gotten. This person was as psycho. Why did he always get the crazy ones?

The whip wrapped around Xaldain's right arm that held his crossbow and he was pulled towards her. "Not bad for an elf. So sad this has to end." She looked him in the eyes as they were face to face. "Too bad that you have to die."

"Who put you up to this?" Xaldain growled and managed to get out of the hold of the whip.

"Do I have to have a reason to kill?" She asked. She placed her pointer finger under her chin to think. "Hmm..." Looking at the sky then back at him, she gave him a smile. "I don't have one. I just like to." Her devil tail tripped him.

Xaldain glared up at her. He was not getting anywhere with her. "I can't lose to her. The others need me. Serenity needs me."

She stood above him and grinned. "My name is Kutso!" Jumping into the air, she shouted. "I'm giving you my name so you can scream it when you-" She gripped her whip tightly and held it over her shoulder, about to attack. "-DIE!" she finished while flingng her whip towards him.

---

The unknown place

---

"Where are we anyway?" Luna looked around.

"We have to be near Nameless Isle. We weren't out for that long." Maria replied.

Stripes growled as he tried to get out of the man's grip. "They're like statues."

"Tell me about it." Hojo added as he struggled to get loose. He then smiled at Maria. "Hey, Maria. Use your magic to get us out of here."

"Don't you think I would of did that already?" Maria sighed. "I can't cast spells with my hands behind my back."

"Isn't it odd how they are only holding us?" Serenity pondered. "What are we here for and where is Xaldain?"

The rest of them shrugged.

"I got a feeling it isn't good." Fang replied.

---

Xaldain & Kutso

---

Kutso groaned and blood dripped from her mouth. She was shot in the stomach by Xaldain's arrow. "So... you got me." She chuckled a bit before she collasped on top of him. "And here I thought I was the only great male fighter."

"Male fighter?" Xaldain blinked in confusion. She was a man?! Now that he thought about it, something was off about Kutso. He gently rolled her..ermm...him off of him before standing up. He was bloody all over. That battle with that venomancer was intense. Quickly he spread his wings and soared through the air. "Please, everyone. Be ok."

---

Back to the unknown place

---

Thunder crashed and dark clouds hovered around the area. Thousands of bubbles formed in the water near them.

"Still say the sky is clear?" Stripes asked Maria.

Maria sighed then her eyes widened when she saw the horrid beast rise from the waters. It was massive and ugly. It had the face and waist down of a serpant and the arms and abdomen of a man. It held a trident in one of its hands. It must be a god or a mighty Wraith.

Everyone stared up at it as it stared down at them with a grin.

"Serenity! Hojo! Maria! Luna! Stripes!" Xaldain yelled once he spotted them down below on a little piece on land.

"Xaldain!" they all yelled back.

"Get us free! You take too long!" Hojo growled while shouting up at Xaldain.

"Baby Herculeses, give them to Lord Mantavip now!" a familiar voice ordered. Xaldain turned to see Kutso. Did he not die?

"Baby?! I'd hate to see the father." Hojo stated.

"More like hating to see the mother. She must be huge to kick out these whoppers." Stripes said to Hojo.

Xaldain quickly shot Hojo and Stripes bounds so the two were free.

"Awesome." Hojo grinned and started to fight one of the golden men.

"Freedom." Stripes grinned in triumph when he turned into a tiger and roared to get the other golden men to fight him.

Xaldain landed on the ground and untied everyone else.

"Xaldain, you're covered in blood!" Serenity frowned and her eyes started to water.

"I'm fine." Xaldain replied with a smile.

"Blaze, attack them!" Kutso commanded a phoenix bird. That must have been the thing that created all those flames. He was on a bee in the air above Mantavip. From his serious wound, he was dying slowly.

"Not today!" Xaldain glared at the bird and aimed. He put his entire strength into it and shot the bird down in one shot.

Kutso glared at Xaldain and frowned. "You're so mean."

"Who is she?" Luna asked.

"More like him." Xaldain responded.

"Huh?" The girls gave him strange looks.

"Nevermind." Xaldain shook his head and looked at Mantavip. "We got bigger things to worry about."

Hojo and Stripes finished off the last of the Herculeses.

"I will destroy it." Stripes stepped towards the beast.

"No, I will." Maria volunteered.

"Maria, are you crazy?" Hojo stood in front of her to block her from walking towards Mantavip. "That thing is huge."

"I can do it." Maria replied. Her eyes burned with power as she stared into his eyes. "Trust me."

"But..." Hojo trailed off when he looked deeper into her eyes. "Ok, but be careful."

Maria nodded before walking to Mantavip. "You will no longer have sacrifices."

Mantavip chuckled. "You dare challenge me wizard girl?"

"You bet." Maria replied and glared at it. "Mountain's Seize!"

Mantavip's eyes widened. It was weak against the element of earth. "No!! I will never be taken!" It screamed before diving into the depths.

The rainfall of rocks soon stopped and Kutso was no where to be found along with his pets. Did he die or fall in the water?

"Darn, he got away." Maria pounted.

"Whoa, you got that thing swimming away from you? I never knew you had so much power." Hojo smiled and hugged Maria.

"You didn't?!" Maria blinked in suprise then glared at him.

"Was I suppose to know?" Hojo asked nervously.

Shota,

I personally don't post many posts on this forum but since this thread was so compassionate from the heart, its a nice gesture to all who either affected you in the game directly or indirectly. Many will miss you but everyone will not forget you. Through all the crying and complaining on these forums, that's one more thread in the books that shine light that there is more to PWI than that meets the eye. For those who leave this world of perfectiveness with a bang or not a bang, they will be remembered in ways that they wouldn't otherwise know.

It is very touching to see players contribute their entries and watch their creativity flow like water in a waterfall. To those who think they don't have a shot at winning or think their entry is not worthy enough, take a shot at it and try. It doesn't hurt to try and maybe by your surprise, you found something new you can build and improve on. All the entries are very creative.

May your future endeavors that you pursue bloom with success and happiness, Shota. Alot of people were touched by you, so in the near future, showing up your face will make someones day brighter and happier without you knowing.

Good luck and god bless in anything you do,

EThantos

Part One: A Lovers Reunion

In a time just before the present state of the world-

Anari lifted her face to welcome the sunlight as it broke the cool morning air. Her senses were sharp, titillated by the contrasting flavors of spring on the Jade Shore. The warm sweet scent of wildflowers carried on a cool salty breeze, the soft throated tenor of songbirds played against the thunderous percussion of waves upon the beach, the dry heat of the sun upon her skin and the cold rocks beneath her unshod feet still dampened by the oceans spray. Anari lowered her gaze to the eastern horizon and tried to shield her face from the sun as it glinted upon the sea. Even amongst the intrusive glare she could still make out the distant white sails of a ship skirting the rocky cove, swiftly moving southward. There was no question about it now, she thought, the ship was close enough. It was definitely pulling into to port. She inhaled a sharp, shallow breath as she flushed with excitement.

Anari turned southward, facing the long white shore, and leapt from her stone perch onto the wet sand. With a fluid movement she landed in a crouch, tilted her body forward, and launched herself across the beach with the prowess of an athlete. Anari loved to run and her body reflected that love in every movement. Her long taught legs pumped rhythmically into the foamy grit beneath her feet. Her lungs burned for oxygen, and her heart battered in her chest as she pounded down the shore. Anari’s thoughts, however, were as scattered as the sand flying behind her. Her mind swelled with both hope and fear. For two long months she had scouted the ships from the north. Any sea faring vessel that dared to sail so close to the rocky shallows of the Widow’s Coast, she learned, was most certainly not headed for the capital city of Archosaur, but to the small camp just north of it. It was a recently built stronghold known simply as ‘Allies Camp’, commissioned by General Coarsair as a gathering point for the armies of the north, and her home of more than eight weeks. Every morning of those eight weeks Anari stood atop the rocky shoals in the shadow of Mount Pike, chasing the ships from the north into harbor.

The guard at the north gate nodded as Anari flew passed him into the walled settlement; her frenzied entrance was now as regular a morning activity to him as the rising sun. Anari slowed to a trot, gasping breaths as she tried to regain her composure. “Tai’Chien!” she cried between breaths of air “Tai’Chien…a ship…another ship!” Anari looked around the camp, and finally saw a friendly face “Kao, have you seen…Tai’Chien?” she gulped. Kao smiled broad, always glad to bear good news, and nodded to Anari “I see her now, look behind you dear.” Anari turned and saw a winged figure gliding in toward the harbor aloft the seaward breeze. “Although,” Kao said, putting his hand on Anari’s shoulder to get her attention “you need not wait for her to tell you the news.” Anari’s heart nearly leapt out of her chest “What news!?” she blurted out. “The scouts have just told me, Anari” he beamed “the ship, it’s from the City of Fortune!” “Keldren!” Anari grabbed Kao by the arms, trembling with anticipation “Keldren! Is he on the ship?” “I,I don’t know yet” Kao stammered looking a little shaken, surprised by Anari’s strong grasp “Perhaps Tai’Chien can answer that. Oh, but pardon me,I must go get my flute! I shall play the crew worthy ballad for their voyage.” With that, Kao broke free from Anari’s grasp and quickly shuffled off.

A fluttering of wings and a gust of air announced the arrival of Tai’Chien, landing quietly behind Anari. The winged elf appeared no older than Anari, and only deep within her grey eyes could one glimps the ages of wisdom she possessed. The two had been friends since Anaris days at the academy. Tai’Chien had been her first year tutor, and had taken an immediate liking to the child. She now traveled with her as an emissary from Plume. “Tai’Chien, the ship! It’s from Fortune! Is Keldren-?“ “It is not the only ship.” Tai’Chien interrupted, her deep melodic voice was tinted with an unnatural urgency “There is another, blowing in with the storm.” “Storm? I didn’t…” Anari looked to the north and at once noticed the thick black sheet spreading its folds against the northern sky. It did not roll across the horizon like any storm she had ever seen, but slid as if pushed by some immense hand. Anari felt a wave of fear blanket over her as swiftly as the coming tempest. It was then she began to hear the alarmed and pleading cries of the passengers from the first ship now pulling into port. “Is…is he?” she pleaded softly, her face ashen. “Yes, he is, alive and well. Now, come Anari, we must gather a…Anari? “But Anari was already gone.

All her hesitation and fear replaced with determination and will, she ran the shoreline again. She knew where her Keldren was, and any obstacle that threatened their reunion could now be dealt with personally. Anari charged towards the storm with inhuman speed, as if to tackle it to the ground. As the clouds ran across the sky like an inky blot to cover the newly risen sun, Anari came to a sudden stop next to a good sized stone in the sand. Charged with desperate strength she threw the stone across the ground, as a child might flick a pebble, and plunged her hand into the sand. After reaching around for a moment Anari grasped what she was searching for and with a twist of her body wrenched it free from its resting place. Held aloft her head was a bright green blade; its eerie sheen seemed to grow brighter as the skies grew darker. It was a gift from Keldren, who carried its twin. He had crafted it for her from the ancient remains of a buried temple he had come across on one of his journeys. The day before Keldren left, Anari had placed her sword upon the sand. Now waving the sword in the air she frantically scanned the darkened horizon, seeing nothing against the tussled waters and jagged rocks. Anari choked down her panic as she scrambled to the top of a stone amongst the foot of Mount Pike. Again she thrust the blade into the air, peering into the stormy sea.

A few moments passed like an eternity, the time measured by breaths rasping in her pounding chest. Swells of wind and rain threatened to tear her barren feet from the slick stone surface. And just as hope seemed to fade in the shadows around her, a faint glint of light answered her from deep within the bowels of the storm. Anari wiped the rain from her eyes to be certain it was real. The green flame on the ocean grew brighter, winking in the torrent now pouring from the skies. The implication was unmistakable. Keldren had answered her. Anari stood still for a moment, tears mixing with the rain, then proceeded carfully down the rocks. Still pointing the sword to the sky, she ran one last time down the beach, guiding the wayward ship past the jagged rocky shallows and towards the harbor of the Allied Camp. Tai’Chien met her approach to the gate with a mixed crew of soldiers, fishermen and some of the apothecary’s aids. They carried with them ropes, blankets, medicine and small canoes. Anari, unable to cary herself any further, collapsed into the arms of her old friend and wept. The soldiers tied some of the ropes to the fishermen, who took the remaining with them in the canoes, expertly guiding there small crafts beyond the swell. Out to the ship they rowed to attaching the thick cords to its battered hull, that were in turn secured by the soldiers to great anchoring posts on the shore. Much of the rest of the camp and many of the previous ship’s crew and passengers had arrived also. With strenuous effort they guided the floundering craft in from the unmanageable waters.

The worn crew emerged from the tattered hull of the ship. Many were taken to small tents and makeshift shelters who were in need of treatment, as the small homes of the camps inhabitants were filled with those who suffered from the worst inflictions. Anari, shaking from both the cold and utter exhaustion, clung to Tai’Chien for support. Together the two moved toward the boarding planks of the ship, weaving through the throngs of crew and passengers. At long last Anari laid eyes on the man she had waited for these past two months. Their gaze crossed, and as if the two exhibited a magnetic pull, they found each other on weak trembling legs. Anari released Tai’Chien, and collapsed into into the arms of her husband. The two fell upon the sand, and laid in each other’s embrace. As Anari wept, Keldren whispered in her ear “I remember, that day upon the beach, the day placed your sword in the sand” he breathed as the rain faded and the storm receded “that day you said to me that if ever I were lost, to look for that green flame, and follow it back to you.”

In Perfect World, many amazing things occur that make a person look back and laugh or enjoy that moment or memory. Mine would have to been the day when I was in my blademaster file and doing quests near Timberfield, and all of a suden I see a Snow Hare Runing up to me. At first I clicked it to see whose Snow Hare it was, and BAM it was a Wild Snow hare. I couldn;t believe my eyes, and it started to attack me with its cute jumps lol. So, I thought I should get in my venomancer file to tame it, but my venomancer file is in Arch. So.... I loged off and went to venomancer file and teleported there. I looked everywhere for it, and it was gone. And I searched for 10 minutes. So... I gave up. And went back to my blademaster. And It was a Miracle, the bunny returned hopping near a tree. That little rascal lol. So I logged off and went in venomacer file again. And you wouldn;t believe what happened. That cute bunny dissappeared again. Do'Oh. AndI searched again, and still no luck. And when I clicked the tool box to click Log Off, The Bunny came out of nowhere hoping towards me. Now Since I am a level 54 venomancer, I knew my powers would kill it. So... one thing left to do, punch it xD. After I tamed it and kept that bunny as a rememberance of a funny moment that made me laught and gave me hope that no matter what, every second in the game counts. Treasure your memories forever
The End
This is based on a true story xD, well it is lol

This is my entry - dont take it too seriously

---

Now, this is a story all about how
My life got flipped-turned upside down
And I liked to take a minute
Just sit right there
I'll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Sundown.

In west Archosaur, born and raised
On the Auction house was where I spent most of my days
Chillin' out maxin' relaxin' all smart
And all bidding on items, it really is an art
When a couple of barbs
Who were up to no good
Started making trouble in my neighborhood
I got in one little Duel and my Elder got scared
He said 'You're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Sundown'

I whistled for a mount and when it came near
The license plate said fresh and it had dice on its ear
If anything I can say this mount looked run down
But I thought 'Nah forget it' - 'Yo homes to Sundown'

I pulled up to the town, the tailor looked great
And I yelled to the rider 'Yo homes smell ya later'
I looked at my kingdom
I was finally there
To sit on my throne as the Prince of Sundown

The time has come. My bones are tired... so tired...
My old mounts have earned their rest, and my gear eagers for its final rest.

But where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself.
I am known as Shota.

Yes i know, my reputation surpasses me.
All across the land bards sing about my deeds, commoners celebrate my accomplishments and warriors envy the fortune i have gathered.

But people are blind... blind like i once was, for there is no taking without giving, and the toll is just too high.
This war, this wretched war, is all i have ever known since i arrived into this world.

Yes this world... this perfect world... Staind by sin and corruption, by hate, evil and greed... Staind by the Wraith.
Cursed be the Wraith for delivering misery upon us, and cursed be the shallow dreams of fame and glory that illude our childrens hearts, leading them to certain death.

Fame and glory they say... Heroes... Champions... NONSENSE.
Where is the glory when your companion dies by your side?
Will the coins take away your pain? Will a pocket full of gold take away the stench of a battlefield at sundown?

It sickens me, how easily people forget those who have fallen for them and worship those who were lucky enough to survive.
But i will never forget and i WILL NEVER let anyone forget those who fell in battle, fighting for our children, our future and our land.

They deserve much more than being forsaken, much more than falling into oblivion.
In the battlefield we do not find strangers, commoners or kings... in the heat of battle we are all brothers and sisters... and i have buried too many for too long.

Where would i be without them? My brothers, my sisters.. my friends.
In times like these, those who honor your with such devoted friendship, are the ones who keep your heart from turning into an ice cold rock, they are the ones who keep you sane, and such friendship, such love, is what defines a true Champion.

But please, dont get me wrong!
I know this war must be fought AND IT MUST BE WON, but when a man or a woman yield a weapon, it must be done for the right reasons and not for foolish dreams of greatness and wealth.

I have walked that path and paid the price.. Fortunally, i came across with those who i now call friends, they opened my eyes to the true meaning of it all... I feel trully blessed.

But now its time for me to step aside and give room to new blood... new blood that will surely be shed by some cursed blade.

Do not derail from the true path stranger, for true rewards will come to those who fight not for themselves but for the others.

Live long and fight well. May the Gods protect you.

Devilmages - Sanctuary wrote: »

Q.Q that was butieful

You're doing it wrong.

It's

ಥ_ಥ ...beautiful.

Delarian balled up a section of the precious silks into a fist as he forced his emotions to stabilize. His face retained a facade of stoicism as he tilted his head blindly towards the heavens, which he knew were sadly blocked by the upper boughs of the great Tree that acted as the silent guardian of the city. From his perch at the edge of one of the natural outcroppings along the trunk, the only stars he could have seen were in the distance. None of the ones directly above. The sky was closed to him.

All of the Winged Elves were gifted by the Gods: given the power of flight as a right of birth. How better to celebrate life than with the freedom and purity that only dancing amongst the skies could bring? They were all born with white wings that grew - and sometimes changed - as they aged, and Delarian was no exception. His own moonlight-soft wings rustled quietly behind him, voicing the agitation that his face refused to show.

A fortnight ago, he could have stated truthfully that he was as satisfied as he could be within the city’s limits. But now, would he have been able to look the Elder in the eyes, tell her honestly that his decision had been too hasty, and he wished for nothing more than to stay? Why was this sudden need to leave upon him? Had he been looking for an excuse? Or had that Human’s storytelling turned a key within his mind? He pushed these circular thoughts away. His people were rarely seen outside of the city, unless they were the far-flying messengers by trade. His hand clenched tightly enough on his pant leg that he could feel his nails digging into his palm through the material. Were they merely birds with clipped feathers, hiding out their lives with the threat of the Wraith surrounding them? Perhaps they would be safer, but how long would that last?

He had perused these heavy thoughts with additional information he had obtained from travels to the local towns on temporarily loan as a healer. It is nigh-impossible for a rabbit to disguise itself from the keen eyes of the hawk circling above, and so his short trips away from the city proper had revealed unaccounted damage that was beyond the eyes of the citizens. So many mistakes and so many precautions. The flora and fauna of the region were becoming infected by the Wraiths’ evil taint, and even the best of efforts to find a cure had as of yet only failed. The only solution, though temporary, to be found was to cull any creature that showed extraordinary aggression towards anything sentient. Grim times, indeed, when taking a walk just outside the city borders meant risking yourself. It was now advised to travel in groups of three or more, and have at least one member of your party be handy with magic or weapons. Reports from farther afield stated that the dead, as well as the living, were being manipulated by the Wraiths’ energy. Ghouls stalked outside even the great ancestral city of Archosaur, and destroying them only provided chance for more soldiers to fall and rise once again to continue what was beginning to seem a hopeless fight.

He drew his wings around himself to form a natural cloak, as if to keep out the imagined deathly chill he could detect in the deceptively warm nighttime breeze that ruffled his feathers. Delarian suppressed a shudder, his arms crossing underneath his plumed shield. The chatter of the outsiders below seemed impossibly distant as he looked up at the stars again, listening absently. Sure enough, they were dealing with the mainly practical matters at hand, discussing the haggling of prices for supplies or the looks of the lady Elves that were posted to guard the borders of Plume. They had come from the far away kingdoms of their respective races to his peoples’ city on a mission of great importance. The band was relatively small: a gathering of four, containing mostly Humans, but with a single Untamed warrior within their ranks. He had gotten a personal audience with their leader as he patched up a badly bruised arm on the rugged Human.

* * *

The black-haired man had an unshaven appearance from his constant travelling, but it was a deception of sorts, after finding that he was eloquently spoken, as well as passionate about his cause. Through the short time the relatively simple healing took, he hadn’t stopped speaking of the evils of the Wraith, and his past damaging assaults on their bases of operation. After inquiring further out of thinly-veiled intrigue, Jansolm, as the Human was called, recounted his run-ins with all sorts of magically altered creatures. Nightmares that could instill fear in the hearts of the most courageous men, and beauty that could melt even the most chilled of souls.

Delarian had sat in silence, captivated by Jansolm’s charismatic detailings for the better part of an hour after he had stemmed his healing power. He had been training and exercising his skills within the city for as long as he could remember. The wonders, and terrors, of the world were not lost upon his eager imagination.

There had been other travelers who had come to Plume in search of aid: claiming to be elite strike forces that would decimate the Wraiths’ horrible armies. Or some who had come to the end of their travels; a cloak of sadness and terrible knowing always dragging behind them. And then there was the rare occasion, becoming more common by the month, of some collapsing at the edge of the sentries’ vision. Many a time, they did not survive long enough for a healing to be attempted after being brought back to the city.

But Jansolm’s tales were different and yet the same as the stories he had heard from the few far-flyers that brought news from different areas of the continent. The same because they had confirmed things that the far-flyers had mentioned seeing from a safe distance. Different because the man had been face to face with these things and lived to tell about them. The man was a survivor, and he had mentioned his band was looking for a few more to join their travels. “And especially,” he had mentioned somewhere within his stories, “We would prefer someone who was gifted with the healing arts. They would be a priceless addition to an already competent team. Now, if only the Gods had permitted us one such person as we passed through the Shining Tidewood a few weeks back…”

After finishing, he had persuaded Delarian to meet with the rest of the team on the excuse of allowing them to express their gratitude for his assistance on their mission. The Elf had bowed respectively to each through the murmured praise, though the names of the others had slipped through one ear and out the other as he looked them over discreetly. They were a hardy bunch, and it was not just by judging them by the numerous scars that lined their faces and visible skin. Their postures bespoke constant watchfulness and an almost primal grace.

After wishing them well, Jansolm had asked to speak with him privately a moment before returning to the dual-purpose of coming to Plume. As well as a scouting mission to recruit one or more of the Elves, they needed to resupply for the next leg of their journey. Delarian had not been prepared for the sudden usage of his given name, nor the blunt words that followed from the grizzled Human’s lips.

((Again, continued below.))

Bad Pouch lyrics:

Ha-ha! well now we call this the act of Grinding.But there are several other very important differences between human beings and bots that you should know about.

Sweat baby sweat baby grind is a Buried Bones drought
Me and you do the kind of stuff that only Duke Blacke would sing about
So put your hands down my pouch and i bet you'll feel poor
Yes im barb , yes im archer , and youre getting 2 coins more.

You've had enough of two-man squads ,you want it sub'ed ,youre out of mats
I want you buffed i want you healed up , like my venomancer pets
Come quicker than a mount , maxed panthers dont count , like a health potion stack you are inclined
To make me farm an hour early just like delayed server time.

Do it now!
You and me baby aint nothing but farmers
So lets do it like they do and get rich by scamming others
Do it again now!
You and me baby aint nothing but farmers
So lets do it like they do and get rich by scamming others
Getting proxys now!

Grind. Clearing up mobs up like with a mop and bucket
Going to tab a noob's fb , im high level so i rock it
Im so terrific? Lemme be specific i wanna be down in your Endless Sea
But i got this notion that having only one potion , means its Aerocraft'ing flee.

So if i kill steal , the mob you try to kill , Q_Q report me for hacking
Please turn lag off , im mister bot , your loot i'm anxious to start picking
So show me your equips , ill show you mine , i'll scam you , love it just like lime
Flame each other on the forums , trolly-style , we can do it , it's no crime.

Do it now!
You and me baby aint nothing but farmers
So lets do it like they do and get rich by scamming others
Do it again now!
You and me baby aint nothing but farmers
So lets do it like they do and get rich by scamming others
Getting proxys now!

You and me baby aint nothing but farmers
So lets do it like they do and get rich by scamming others
Do it again now!
You and me baby aint nothing but farmers
So lets do it like they do and get rich by scamming others
Do it now!
You and me baby aint nothing but farmers
So lets do it like they do and get rich by scamming others
Do it again now!
You and me baby aint nothing but farmers
So lets do it like they do and get rich by scamming others
Getting proxys now!


Fin.
(Original Lyrics from The Bloodhound Gang , from the single "The Bad Touch")

Peace no longer rules and harmony no longer prevails...

Many cycles have passed since the Wraith arrived, bringing with them the horrors of a never-ending war.
All across the land, there are sightings of horrible creatures that atack without mercy.
Hordes of foes invade, pillage and burn defenseless vilages. Men, women, elder, children.... noone is spared... noone is safe.

By the Gods, what did we do to deserve this?

The smell of death has overtaken the flowery scent that once played in the wind breeze, and the beauty of this land is scorched by the presence of the hell spawned fiends that hunt us down and torment us all.
There is no safe haven, and only fools feel safe.

I hope one day to be remembered for who i am and for what ive fought, just as i remember the names of all those who fought by my side, those who lived to fight another day, and those who died in the name of hope, and in the promisse of a free, perfect world.

Yes... sometimes our name is all we have, and when the time comes for me to departure this mortal coil, the Gods themselves will greet me at their kingdoms gate, and the name Shota will be shout at the four winds.. and i will live forever.

I dream of the day when my weapon will not be needed anymore, but for the time being, this faithful companions journey is far from over and it must follow me everywhere i go, for she is my guardian, my protector, my life.

I have travelled a lot... seen more than most men or women. Shed blood... pierced flesh. I have been wounded and left to die...
Hell, i have faced Death itself eye to eye, and still here i am. You could say im one the lucky ones, but i would have to disagree.

Its hard to grasp on hope when every cave and every hole in the land, becomes an infested nest of these cursed malevolant fiends, but everywhere i go, i also find signs of friendship and love. Yes, that alone fills my heart with courage and gives me the strenght to keep fighting the minions of foes that cross my path, and the morale lowering toughts that sometimes cross my mind.

I have teamed up with all sorts of warriors... gained and lost friends in the battlefields.
Only the Gods know how many minions fell at my feet... so many blood was shed and still it is not enough... it is never enough.
The Wraith keep coming, wave after wave. For every one we kill, three more appear...

Will i ever know peace? Will we drive this evil away? Will my heart still beat at the end of the day?

In the end... it doesnt matter.

...continued...

With her sword draw, Hekate rushed towards the group of slashing swords, axes, and oncoming arrows. A sharp word sprung from her lips and the entire group was bathed in a myriad of colors that made the skin prick with energy. Her body trembled ever so slightly as the life threads of those around her tapped into her own which was solely connected to a higher force. The beating heart of this world surged through her. She was a vessel of this perfect world and she had chosen to use it to save lives.

As the last of the wraith onslaught was distinguished the warriors drew back as a whole. “Back to camp…we will deal with this foe another night.” Hekate could see the weariness on the faces of those around her. And even though their commander was in well enough condition previously, he was not now. His limp form was settled upon a liter, he was in no condition to argue right now.

Two nights had passed; Roov had still not become fully lucid. His nights were filled with terrifying dreams, horrors that he had never witnessed before. By his side, Hekate sat, her small hand resting on his. She had made all the arrangements for his comfort, yet even with the smallest of healings; he had still not yet awakened.

“Barbarian, what troubles your mind so much…?” Her voice was like a cool mist on the night’s air. He had been badly wounded in the battle, yet all the physical wounds were healed nights ago. Now everyone was awaiting word on him awakening.

Remembering back to the very day she had first seen this creature of the untamed and his hardened group of vigilante’s she could not help but laugh. So much had changed already. Battle after battle had been sieged on the wraiths. She had watched as they all made it through hell and high water to get to where they were now. She would not let this creature, this man, fall because of some unknown haunting that captured his mind.

If only her mother were here now, with all her knowledge in such things, of herbs and miracles cures. Hekate sighed and rested her forehead down on the edge of the cot in front of her. What should she do? “Hmm…” Hekate looked up to the barbarian’s troubled face. What would it hurt to try and heal him once again?

Lifting herself to sit on the bedside, she rubbed her hands together to warm them briefly and then placed them upon Roov’s bare chest. Fingertips brushed into the rich fur there, and her cheeks turned red. “Grr… that was not a proper thing to think of when he’s not conscious! Well, it’s not a proper thing to think of ever!” She muttered to herself. Closing her eyes she focused on the energy connection.

Slowly manipulating the energies that sprung from her form and surrounded her, she enveloped the barbarian in as well. She could already feel it working its way over his entire form, searching for any ailments. The colours seemed to be a cool even white. This perplexed her, there were no immediate “hot spots” that would indicate a wounded area. “Tsk…Roov please wake up. Expel those demons of yours!” She pleaded and wound her fingers into his hand.

“Ah but if I do that…if they were to leave me, I fear my angel will take flight as well.” Roov cleared his throat after growling that softly. His red hot gaze returned and it was drilling straight into her soul. Hekate pulled her hand away quickly only to find that she was unable to. He held her firmly. “You’re awake…good.” She felt a shiver go down her spine, her gaze studying his hand holding hers.

“You know, Milady, I think you love me.” A mischievous smile came over him suddenly and he lifted himself into a sitting position, her hand still captured by his own. “I what? Of all the school age fantasies that anyone could…” She was rambling on a little bit, nervously at that. But Roov quickly cut her off by pulling her up into his lap. There was no mistaking now.

Hekate still could not understand what was happening with her. Her heart was racing a million wing flaps over again and again. She started counting how many herbs she could think of that were growing in the wild just outside of camp. But that was quickly done away with as well as she looked up into those deep autumn red eyes of his. “You know you love me.” There was an amusement in his tone as he continued, “You want to marry me and have my pups, Priest.”

Quite suddenly she gasped and pulled away, only to be captured again and pressed into him. There was a brightness that surrounded them. Almost burning to the touch, it disoriented her and then came clarity…all the searching, the running away from something if only to find it. She now believed she had. She had always been searching for what her mother lost when Hekate’s father had died. Love. Hekate laughed and looked up to Roov’s face. “You are absolutely right. I love you, Barbarian.”

The End.