Hail friends,
Scammers, item bless deeds, books of truth, and keeps; It seems that I've become dizzy with dillusions of grandeur as of late. It's past due time that I bring things back to basics.
I head for Brit Gate escape the nausea that is my life.
I arrive amidst an epic battle between two of the most feared names across the land. Names that bring the most hardened of warriors to their knees. Names that are so terrifying, I dare not speak more than a whisper as to not attract unwanted attention. Names burned into the minds of all who walk this earth. Names that the entire world declared in a solitary moment of unity to never again witness children that bear these names under pain of death:
Cookie Monster & Tom from MyspaceThey say that their names as anagrams form root words from a tongue long since past. The devil's tongue. I dare not say their names twice in one day.
It's too late. I've said too much.A last alliance of men and elves throw themselves into certain death. A stealth archer there, a swordsman here...
All doomed one by one.
I creep amonst the chaos and reap the rewards of the dead.
Dozens of bandages and hundreds of crossbow bolts litter the battlefield. I take no shame in my misgivings. As the dust settles, one last valiant warrior emerges from the ashes. A name that will no doubt be heralded as the one who ended once and for all the suffering of this land and the next! Children will bear his name with pride! With pride I say! They shall all be known as...
A Jerk Factory!
All while they sing songs of his name in all the pubs across the great wild, I take comfort in the absence of mine. He scans the area as I search his pack.
I have no shame.
I must be quick about it, for I will not escape the gaze of a man such as this.
His pack is cluttered with all types of equipment and gear. The reagents are scattered among the bolas and enchanted apples, making my job so much more difficult. My fingers move quickly now but I don't have much time.
I move the bloodmoss aside and find what I'm looking for!A magical ring!
Just to my liking.
I pause.
Something has caught my eye. In the corner. It's barely noticable but it's there. I know it's there.*shits pants*
I run as fast as I can but soon realize that no one has noticed at all.
A perfect steal for the very tiny key."Kal Ort Por" I say, and I'm off.
The cargo is empty but I have what I want.
No one has noticed but I must be quick. For boats are crafted with a pair of keys, not just one. I set sail for the closest patch of land.
I thank thee for thy donation!
My ranks of my armada now grows by one! I place A Jerk Factory next to the Deep Rising for safe keeping in my pack.
The night is still young and I head back to the gate. Something is in the air. Something familiar. I can't put my finger on it. No matter.I'm unable to finish my thought before Latimer pops through the magical gate.
239 gold.
It must be mine.I follow the tiny elf as he makes his way back to his humble tree hobble, to feast on bark and... uh... leaves. (Or whatever elves eat...?)
I can barely keep up with him. I lose him for a moment and find him in a mighty battle against a fearsome beast! They exchange blows while all I want is the gold.
I can contain myself no longer!Success!
And that familiar feeling emerges once again.
Fate does indeed work in mysterious ways. He was here the day I obtained the Deep Rising and fate would have our paths cross once again.
'Til next time!