[Solo] RED. BLACK.

[Deleted]

Equipped: Windsor Antiqua Ooyoroi | Windsor Antiqua Nagamaki (2H) - :: - Skill: Denkosekka (Buff)

Everything was red.

Everything was black.

Red and black all around her, nothing else. Maybe it was a bad idea to explore the Marshlands of Thames on her own. Maybe it was a worse idea to drink water from that swamp; water that looked bad, smelled bad, and tasted bad. But perhaps the worst idea that she had that day was when she cooked and subsequently ate some weird-looking mushrooms. They couldn't be that weird, right? Couldn't be... couldn't be... The samurai lost her train of thought, her coherency, her- what? What? Where was she?

Everything was red.

The trees- the trees were red. They waved at her. She waved back. Something scampered a short distance away. She waved at it too. It did not wave back. How rude.

Everything was black.

Shadows, shadows everywhere. The water was black. Why was it black? Water reflected the sky- but the sky was red. How was the water black? Why was the water black? The samurai knelt at the waterside, the very same water that made her feel sick earlier. It was black. Why? She put her hand in the water. It ate her fingers and her hand. How funny! Deeper into the water she went. It ate her wrist. Funnier! The samurai leaned closer to the water. It ate her forearm, up to her elbow. Black water was funny.

Something suddenly moved to her left side. It was the rude thingy that did not wave back. Oh wait, it did. It waved weakly. Was it tired? Was it hungry? The samurai pulled her hand out of the putrid water; she waved at the waving figure. What was that? It was waving something pointy. Pointy... pointy things... like a pencil. Yeah, pencils were pointy. Also swords. Swords were pointy. Swords were weapons, so pointy things were weapons- pencils were weapons! The thingy waved a pencil, so it was waving a weapon. Only enemies wave weapons!

The samurai stood up; her drunk, funny demeanor changed to a horribly twisted one as she did so. The little shit waved a weapon at her and she was not going to let it get away with that. The armed thing was black, as black as the water beside her. She gripped her saya tightly and took an aggressive stance, her right foot forward, her dominant hand on the hilt of her nagamaki. The weak goblin scout was incredibly unlucky that day. It thought that it could grab a free meal by offing the adventurer and taking her inventory items, but it was going to be the other way around.

[Denkosekka], and then the samurai dashed off. The first draw of her sword slashed the goblin’s arm clean off. Its weapon flew away with the arm. The severed limb landed upon the black water and soon was lost beneath it. The goblin shrieked, screamed, shrieked... it was afraid. It had been lost in the swamp, left behind by its brothers, but the samurai knew none of that. She cared for none of that. The black thing waved a weapon at her, and she was going to teach it a valuable lesson.

The effects of the mushroom lingered in her mind. Actually, linger was a weak word. Instead, the mushrooms had taken root in the samurai’s mind. With each second that passed, she drifted farther from the reality of Elder Tale and floated to a world between worlds. In that world, everything was red and black. There was no sun or moon, no light to create any other color; there was simply red and black. The trees swayed red, the water drifted black.

The goblin’s blood was black. It splattered all over the ground, leaving the goblin howling in pain. It fell on its tired bottom and put its remaining hand in front of its face as the samurai raised her nagamaki overhead. The next cut split the goblin into two very black parts. Some black liquid splattered all over the samurai’s o-yoroi. Soon, the creature turned to data crystals and drifted into that place where it would no longer know pain and suffering.

The hallucinating girl then stood up. She was annoyed, angry, raging- it was the black water’s fault. And so she bent down by the waterside then stabbed her sword into the water. Repeatedly, each stab getting deeper and deeper, farther into the black void. Repeatedly, that is, until she drew her hand and found that the weapon was no longer there. The black water ate it. How selfish. She was hungry too. With her weapon gone, the samurai sat down by the waterside to contemplate what she should do next.

Staring at the black water surely would get her weapon back, she thought. A staring contest, she usually won those. So for seconds, minutes and then hours on end, the samurai did nothing but stare at the black water. It stared right back. Jerk. She wanted to poke its eyes but the thing had no eyes. Cheater. She soon admitted that the black water was a formidable opponent, and the girl conceded politely.

NOT-!

The black-haired samurai jumped into the water and flailed at it. She also screamed something incoherent, much like what any drunk person would do. Those mushrooms sure were trippy. Despite her seemingly pointless kicking and screaming, the girl soon kicked up her nagamaki. Or rather, it was caught on her footwear. Having felt the thing on her foot, the bent down to take it.

Glub glub glub.

One minute. Thirty seconds more. Another ten seconds... finally she found it. The samurai put her head above the black water, and raised the weapon high above her head. She won! It was a great triumph against the formidable Black Water of the Marshlands of Thames. The girl then turned around, but she had gotten stuck in a deep part of the swamp, and the ground beneath her feet did nothing to help. Everything beneath her was squishy. It was the black water’s fault; she was sure that it was. Exhausted, the samurai laid her head and arms at the waterside while the rest of her was submerged in the stinky swamp water. Her head felt funny. Maybe she could sleep it off.

OOC Notes: ---
Word Count: 1039	Tags: @dindeen

HP	100%
MP	100%
Exp	0

[Deleted]

Equipped: Windsor Antiqua Ooyoroi | Windsor Antiqua Nagamaki (2H) - :: - Skill: ---

Falling asleep while half-submerged in filth was not all too good for anyone, not even in a game. Therefore the samurai, who had already been hallucinating, went farther down through her subconscious and unearthed her darker memories. The first set was black.

Ever since she could remember, the girl had been treated like a toy or accessory by her mother. She never felt like a human being who could be happy, sad or angry. The woman did not even birth her and did not keep that a secret either. She refused to let her figure be ruined by nine months of carrying an ever-growing piece of flesh within her body. While that was each and every lady’s right, to make a choice for herself, she could have at least been motherly to the child once it popped out of a stranger’s body. But even that, she would not afford; Kyuu was merely a testament as to how awesome her genes were. It was a testament as to how lucky her husband was that she even considered having a child with him.

By and by, the child grew secluded in a room full of books, dresses, shoes and not much else. Kyuu did not even like frilly dresses; they were so uncomfortable. But she had to wear it everywhere- school, parties, anywhere in public- because her mother said so. And mothers were always right, so said the woman. The girl would complain, but after she was hit right on the face a few times- first with a hand, next with a shoe, the third time with a leather belt- she knew to stop complaining. The inedible food which the woman served to her as so-called meals were similarly like an endless torture.

Silently, the girl observed the stark contrast between the woman’s demeanor in private and in public. Even her husband knew about it, and she did not care. The woman knew that she was a prize, a trophy that her husband could show off to his friends and colleagues. And in truth, she was damn proud of herself just for that reason. She thought herself worthy of every single luxury that her husband could afford- and even those that he could not afford.

Some days, Kyuu complained, not to the woman but to her father. But he was a kind man, a gentle man... maybe too kind and gentle. He said that as long as they were a family, everything would be alright, would be fine, would be happy. The girl nodded at his words, not out of belief but due to respect. If there was anything in that cold house which she would ever stand up for, it would be her father and no one else. Although the man was not always there every single day of the week, or for weeks on end, he gave all the attention and care that he could give to the girl whenever he was around.

Unsurprisingly, due to her mother’s nature, Kyuu initially believed her maternal relatives to be just like the horrible woman. She hated them before she even met them. But one summer, it all changed. The girl was old and healthy enough to travel outside of Germany, and so the horrid lady took her along for a trip to brag about the child to her grandparents, parents and her siblings.

Too young to feel culture shocked, Kyuu adjusted to the different language and environment quickly. And it was not due to the woman’s care or love, no. It was due to the affections of her great-grandparents, her grandparents, her uncles and aunts, and her cousins. They were polite and kind, not without their own tantrums and bad days, but nothing too dishonest. Most of all, they treated Kyuu not like a toy dog or clothes accessory, but as a human being.

They saw through the girl’s sadness, fears and worries. They tried their best to alleviate it, even for that one summer. And when the days passed, the season changed, and Kyuu had to return to Germany- they tearfully bade their farewells. Kyuu wanted to embrace each and every one of them, not knowing when she will see them again. But before she could say a proper goodbye to her great-grandfather, the girl was literally dragged away by the hateful woman. ‘You will see them next summer’, she said. In truth, she was only in a hurry for the woman wanted to flirt with the new pilot of their private jet. The last time that Kyuu saw her great-grandfather was through the window of the plane. She wanted to say a proper farewell, but she never had that chance. He died autumn of that year. That was the beginning of the death of the young girl’s soul.

Mother and child went back to Japan for the funeral. They were dressed in traditional clothing, ones which were too expensive for the girl’s liking. Her father was not there for he was away for work, as always. Her relatives were grieving and did not have time to attend to her though they wanted to. All Kyuu wanted was to be left alone as she cried, but she could not even have that. No, the woman would not let her have that. She scornfully said that the decade-old girl was too aged to cry. When a single tear fell from the grieving child’s cheek, she received a slap so strong that it felt as if her teeth would fall out. She had to smile and look pretty to welcome the guests; otherwise she would ruin her mother’s good name. And so Kyuu bottled it up, all the emotions that resided within her. If it meant that she would not be hurt again...

But her relatives had seen the incident, and though the woman was of their flesh and blood, so was the young girl. Without thinking twice, they tore Kyuu away from the mother and cast the woman out to the streets. Shame, such shame. Instead of turning upon her relatives, the woman cursed her own daughter and called her many horrible names. As if the child was at fault, as if everything was the child’s own doing. The woman did nothing wrong, is what she thought in her twisted mind.

And so Kyuu stayed with her relatives for a while. They apologized to her as if it was their fault. They said that it was, for they spoiled the girl’s mother as she was growing up. That it was their fault that the woman grew up not knowing what was right and wrong. To that, Kyuu surprisingly replied, ‘ But I know right from wrong, and no one taught me. ‘ Dumbfounded, yet they agreed. They did not let the woman take the child back, not until the father fetched the girl himself.

When father and child returned to Germany, the woman had locked them out of the house. They were forced to stay with the man's relatives who suggested that the couple part ways. But the father was young and naive, and also too kind. For years to come, he tried to mend the broken home. But what happened during those years were stories for another time, since Caerbannog drifted back to her current reality due to the sensation of soothing, cool drops of rain on her face.

OOC Notes: ---
Word Count: 1288	Tags: @dindeen

HP	100%
MP	100%
Exp	0

[Deleted]

She was knocked out cold for the longest time; the first time in a long time. In the real world, Kyuu had gotten drunk only once in her life and apart from that never had a vice aside from spending an ungodly amount of hours on videogames. But based on what she’d read, what she experienced that one day after having been knocked out cold by some alcoholic drinks and based on what she heard from her cousins back in Germany, the samurai knew what she was experiencing at that point: a hangover. It must have been those damned mushrooms. They looked pretty normal and seemed to be the kind which could be cooked and eaten without ill effects. She made a mistake in choosing those mushrooms.

“ Ugh... my head... “

The samurai wanted to throw up but she held it in. Her lower body was still stuck in the mucky river which was revealed to no longer be black; rather it was a mix of brown and green. Vomiting all over the side of the river which she was supposed to use as a leverage to get out of the murky water was a bad idea. Therefore, with all her willpower and whatever strength her upper body had left, Caerbannog pulled herself out of the river. She was alone in a dark place with no one to help her, but she wasn’t about to shudder, cry or ask for help- no. She got herself into that mess so she would pull herself out of it.

And that she did, though after quite a number of tries. After the last attempt which proved to be successful, Caerbannog laid there on the riverside while her blue eyes stared up at the grey sky. Rain drizzled down all over the Marshlands and its inhabitants, and upon the lone visitor: the wolf-hair samurai. She noticed the sun just behind one of the dark clouds but it was unable to shine upon her. A dark place. She felt as if she was in a dark place. The girl soon sat up as she steadied herself with one hand on the ground, the other hand on her forehead. Her vision was cloudy as if her eyesight was back to 20/50, but she knew that it was impossible for that to happen. Though hung over, the samurai knew that she was still in Elder Tale.

For how long? How much time had passed? She had no journal, no diary for the safekeeping of her daily adventurers, mishaps, thoughts or memories. Was her father doing okay? What about her cousins? Her relatives in Japan? How was she going to return to them? So far she had no idea; so far there had been no clues regarding the connection of Elder Tale and the real world. What if she was stuck there forever?

Being hung over felt funny. So many things crossed her mind at almost the same time. It was crazy. She felt as if she was going to go crazy. She was thinking of too many things at once. What was there in the real world? What if Elder Tale was her real world now? Why did she even want to go back to the real world? In Elder Tale, she had infinite lives, she could play the hero. It was a dream come true for any gamer, right? So why... why did she want to go back to the world where she felt nothing but pain and sorrow?

Humans were funny. But she was no longer human, was she? No longer human- she was of the wolf hair race. Her wolf ears, wolf tail, long canines and golden eyes which appeared whenever she was in battle or felt strong emotions; they were a testament to her race. She was no longer human. Human... human huh? Who was still human in the world of Elder Tale?

Caerbannog pulled up her interface and put her stats window beside her Friends List. What was she looking for? On her info window, she saw her Levels. Thirty-two... a long way to go until Level 90. What would happen once she reached it? Could she returned to the real world? The samurai’s eyes then drifted to her Friends List. It was a pretty long list or rather, it was longer than the friends lists which she had in other games. There was Stryke who was the first adventurer who greeted her; never mind that he thought that she was a lander. He was also the first adventurer who player-killed her. But her wounds from then had already been healed, both the physical and emotional ones. She no longer had nightmares about it. If anything, that encounter with Stryke taught her more than she’d ever learned at school. Pain, suffering, acceptance, forgiveness; things that she never learned from textbooks and manuscripts.

Her list also had Oxford in it. He was the peculiar half-alv guardian who always fell asleep somewhere and liked to eat chicken. He was pretty easy-going and had been willing to assist the samurai in her strange adventures into the Greatwood and the Marshlands. He’d never done her wrong and only did his best to assist her. Except when he was asleep which was about 70% of the time.

The name that stood out the most though was Kumori, technically the only human amongst her three friend-friends. Once she reached Level 90, would she be able to leave the game? If that happened then he would be left behind. She did not want that to happen. She’d been away from him long enough. Those years of separation not only because of distance but because of work and school too; eventually she returned to her home but she never told him. How could she have forgotten him at that time? Or did she choose to forget, thinking that he’d moved on with his life much like her cousins who had their own worlds by the time that she saw them again. Elder Tale brought her and Ryuu together again; she would not let it pry them apart.

“ Heh... I feel funny... “ Kyuu mumbled, “ ... thinking of funny things too. “

The blue-eyed samurai crawled over to the nearest tree and leaned against it. The sky was still overcast and rain continued to drizzle; after a few minutes, it began to pour down. But she was resilient, rain would not kill her. And so Kyuu sat there with her horrible hangover under the grey sky and its pouring rain.

OOC Notes: ---
Word Count: 1091
Tags: @dindeen

[Deleted]

The samurai lay there beneath the pouring rain as the sky emptied its woes and tears upon the Marshlands of Thames. Occasionally, she wiped some water from her brow so that her vision would not be obscured. Sometimes it felt nice to be alone, she thought. Being by herself was not that bad. Most of the quests which she undertook up to that point could be taken alone, but she wanted to change. Unlike in the real world where she could hide away in her room, in her own space, Elder Tale was a much bigger and more dangerous place. There were various creatures around every corner which could kill, maim and destroy. But even more dangerous than said creatures, there were landers and adventurers who would prey upon the weak and take advantage of the gullible.

And thus was the samurai’s reason for her attempts to socialize. It was not exactly her cup of tea and still her sentences were badly formed or disjointed, but she tried. She tried her very best every time and she believed that she had improved even if only a little. Still, a day of being with herself, by herself and in the company of nothing but her reflection and her shadow- it was a good day. Never you mind the pouring rain, the murky river or the putrid smell of various decaying vegetation; Caerbannog could listen to nothing but her own thoughts, her own heart, her own breathing, and it afforded her peace. She did not hate, loathe or fear her fellow adventurers but some time alone was good for the mind too.

It was then that she thought about her activities so far. Her possessions, her skills, her capabilities. She started out knowing only how to hold a sword and with much trouble, she had to wield her starter nodachi. A little later, she was able to purchase a nagamaki which was suitable for a higher level. It was nothing special but it was better than the much larger nodachi which proved unwieldy for the samurai. The nagamaki was better suited for a person of her stature since the hilt was as long as its blade. With only a strong grip and proper leverage, she could thrust and slash with that sword of hers.

Her samurai armor and the accompanying black yukata was different matter altogether. It was created by a fellow adventurer whose name and appearance eluded her. Though made of wood, the ooyoroi was as sturdy as metal, a testament to the capability of its crafter. However, it was not as strong as a platemail thusly it could be classified as chainmail. The armor was durable yet light, perfect for Caerbannog’s fighting style which involved quick movement. The black yukata beneath the armor was simply vanity clothing which provided comfort. Outside of battle, the girl made it a habit to keep the ooyoroi away and all that was left would be the yukata along with plain black shorts and boots.

Apart from her samurai gear, Caerbannog also had her crafting items. Her cooking utensils were kept neatly within her Critter Satchel which was created by the elusive tailor Masami. The satchel looked much like a deformed rabbit that had many pockets and linings; even the ears could store things. Within it, the samurai put a basic cooking set which consisted of a small iron pot, wooden spoon and ladle, some small bowls and plates, neatly kept knives and a flint for starting her own fire. Whenever she did not need her cooking utensils, she could store them in her inventory and instead let her dear frenmic rabbit Hrairoo take refuge within the Critter Satchel. It was like a rabbit within a rabbit; quite a sight to be honest.

The rest of the items in the girl’s inventory were her old armor and weapon, and a lot of food. What else would anyone expect from a chef? She kept her own meals safely hidden in her inventory, of course. The mushroom and carrot soup which was her first ever creation would provide some HP restoration if consumed. There was also the spicy soup which she created for a long, cold night out in the Greatwood. Among other things, there was her Questionable Nuggets which resembled chicken nuggets from the real world. They looked a bit odd due to the shapes which Caerbannog used but they were very edible and tasted pretty good too.

On the subject of food, she wondered if anyone had created candies in the world of Elder Tale. No, not the little sweets which restored MP but rather the more unique ones. She could very well keep making MP-restoring sweets forever but what would be the use for that? She wanted something that could be more than a morale or MP-giving item. What about medicinal candies? Ones that healed HP, or gave certain resistances? Did anyone ever think of that? Well, she did; and she would find a way to actually create them.

And thus began one of Caerbannog’s bright ideas which could be brought into fruition with the help of some friends and a healthy dose of perseverance. She did not have to make it then and there, but she would do it someday. Born of the pouring rain and the murky waters, and perhaps of the weird mushrooms that she ate too, Caerbannog’s idea to create candies with practical usage was not a fleeting thought. She envisioned it clearly: a dainty little box of confection which was not all necessarily too sweet. Within it, beautifully crafted candies would be revealed to the user and each item would have a specific purpose or effect. They would not simply be delicacies but mini-potions which could aid adventurers. Of course, Caerbannog considered the line between pharmacists and chefs; it was something that she would never cross. Instead of competing with them, she would aim to help them create things that would aid their fellow adventurers. So drifted the girl’s thoughts as she dreamt that dream of creating her box of confection. Maybe the mushrooms still had a bit of a hold in her mind.

OOC Notes: ---
Word Count: 1025
Tags: @dindeen

[Deleted]

I feel my mind drifting between consciousness and unconsciousness as the cold drops of rain poured down from the grey skies and onto my tired figure. The effect of the poison mushrooms seems to be wearing off, but I still feel heavy. As I look down at my armor, I notice that it is covered in mud, grime and many unmentionable things. No wonder I feel heavy... I have passengers. I sit up straight, though with much difficulty, and start to pull worms and leeches off of my body. Whoever said that the Thames could cure anything was either delusional or a pathological liar. I am convinced that nothing good will come out of dipping any part of anyone’s body into that murky water. All its worms... and leeches... and moss that is also probably alive somehow.

“ Ugh... “

I suddenly grasp my temple; light-headed. No please don’t throw up. Not here, not now. Maybe later once I return to Londenium, okay? It should be easy enough. I just pull up my interface and use Call of Hom- ah, dammit. Look at that. All those swirly things and boxes and shit. I still can’t think THAT straight after all. Damn mushrooms. Well, the easy way out can’t be used so I guess I have to drag myself all the way to Londenium. This is so not fun. I am not going into the Marshlands by myself ever again. Oh hey, one last leech. Off you go! Great, now I’m bleeding. It should stop after a while though... it’s not as if this one wound will kill me. Or maybe those five other open wounds will?

The cold rain is helping me somewhat since it is slowly washing away all the mud and grime from my armor. I need to keep it on in case something decides to attack me from the shadows of this forsaken place. Whoops- my legs give away whenever I try to stand up. Maybe I was out cold for too long. Ah, my nagamaki should help in this case. I try to stand up again with my weapon to support me this time. There were go. I feel like an old woman, heh. It can’t be helped though. This was all my fault anyway. Even with Iron Stomach, I should have known that I cannot be spared from all the horrible effects of certain food items. Those mushrooms are not even edible, so it seemed. The system obviously knows that and so my passive skill as a chef is useless against the darn things.

Finally I am able to walk. One step at a time, slowly... slowly. DAMMIT! I slipped! Faceplanted on the icky ground too! I give up! I will just lie here with all my bleeding wounds and leeches crawling towards me -again- and wait for my hit points to tick away. Respawning in the Abbey would not be so bad. I don’t have to walk all the way up that really long road through Windsor Greatwood all the way to Londenium. It’s not so bad, right? Dying repeatedly... respawning endless. Infinite lives are awesome... right?

A single memory made me sit up straight. A promise. What was that again? A promise that I made with Ryuu that I will not die a meaningless death. Even with infinite lives, or just one life, each one should be meaningful. If I start here and now, if I start to throw my life away just because I feel lazy, then what would stop me from throwing my life away every single time? I am a samurai. No. I am a tank. My role is to protect my party. I should be someone that they could trust, I should be resilient and immovable, I should always be the last man standing.

What a funny thought. Last man standing, huh? When I played one of those MMORPGs back in the real world, I usually picked a summoner class. They were usually overly powerful during the first few patches and so eventually, they would be nerfed. I clearly remember one such summoner, a Corite; she had three types of summons for the first few patches until a fourth one was implemented. The melee one was a powerful tank but oh, it had such a pitiful attack rate. I hated having to level up that one. The magic DPS summon could throw fireballs which were able to kill with one hit, but its hit points and defense rate were laughably low. My favourite was the healer summon. She was so easy to level up and kept me alive during PvP too.

Soon I reached a certain level wherein the newly implemented summon, a ranged DPS type, was unlocked. Some people exploited the hell out of terrain bugs and sniped bosses from afar using that summon. I didn’t. I leveled her up legitimately. When the time came for the mass-PvP fights, I was mainly a buffer, support DPS. “Velo please” was a frequent chat to my face. One thing that I particularly enjoyed was when my melee summon was strong enough to withstand turret attacks from the enemy camp. I let my summon go ahead of me so that it would tank the turrets, and then my party and I would emerge in the enemy’s newbie area. Then, well, it was obvious what we’d do from there. With my healer summon, I was usually the last man standing. A summoner amidst enemy fire with incoming attacks from all directions. I trolled my opponents by running back to the turrets so that the kill would not count for them.

Then in a certain MMORPG, I decided to take up a tank role. Not Elder Tale yet; something else. From then on I had respect, much respect for tanks. Even though some people described their role as just “standing there and taking hits”, it was more than that. When I was in a tank role, I felt the pressure of keeping the enemy Hate on me. At first I panicked every time I lost the mob’s attention, but eventually, with well-time combos I was able to get it back. An evasion type warrior: that was my first tank and my first melee player too. Because of that, I chose the samurai class in Elder Tale. The wolf-hair race was chosen for its affinity with melee classes. I wanted to be a foxtail or a werecat but they were more suited for casters. Over time, I learned to love the race and classes that I chose. Initially, I thought them a curse, but no more.

If there is anything that I still regret, it would be my appearance. Every single adventurer in this damn world seems to be taller than me. I am always dwarfed by someone else; heaven forbid that I ever be dwarfed by a dwarf. My plain appearance does not help either. People tend to treat me like a kid. I am twenty years old, dammit! I can drink, and watch R-18 movies... if I wanted to! Not that I want to though. Ah right, I can play M-rated videogames! Hah! Honestly, why does everyone treat me like a kid? Have I not proven myself enough?

I thought back to the time when I went on my first Sarum Expedition. Back then I tried to hide it from the party... my insecurities, I guess. I was not a lone healer like Jojo; she was essential to the group. People like her, I knew it then, that she would be the core of our party. As I was in other games, protected by those around me while I protected them with all my skills and spells. I was not a barrier-throwing DPS like Capsule or Renai. Enchanters they were called. Even though there were two of them, they were both essential. Why? Because the party was so big. If there was only one enchanter, it would have been too much a burden to throw barriers at everyone. Capsule was also tall and had fiery red hair... unlike me who was short, the shortest in that party too, and had plain black hair.

Avalon, although she was the third assassin in the group, also stood out in some aspect. She was tall, slim and pretty; she could also fight from afar which allowed her to deal damage without getting too close to the enemy. Stryke was the only swashbuckler in the group and with his Berseker subclass, he was a force to be reckoned with. I should know. He was able to kill me without much effort before. Aeon, the mysterious caster, was both powerful and enigmatic. He was the only sorcerer in that party and so even with just that fact, he stood out. Ryuu... what can I say that I have never said before? He was the leader type. Sometimes he talked too much but it was not a fault. If anything, it made things easier for me. I guess I was too dependent on him. And lastly, Saber who had the highest level in the party at that time. How did he reach that level anyway? Did he just grind away in the woods until he was forced to go out in broad daylight? Not that it mattered, not that I was daunted. If anything, that was what I wanted to aim for.

So I have to be strong huh? Stronger than I am now, perhaps the strongest if I can manage that. Elder Tale is no longer a game. It is my reality. Every time I step out of Londenium, I am a target for both mobs and player-killers. I know that. If I want to be trusted, I have to earn that trust. If I want to be respected, I should emit the aura of a respectable person. It’s rather difficult with this appearance, this long black hair that flips whenever I turned to look somewhere, these blue eyes that are anything but fierce... this height. Oh, this height. Even in the real world, I was mocked for it. I was able to shrug those people off. I was able to hide behind Ryuu for the most part. But I know that I cannot hide behind him forever. I will be stronger, more powerful than ever. I won’t be that little kid who cries and runs behind her brother, no. Not anymore.

I stand up; this time without the aid of my nagamaki. I put my weapon back in my belt where it belongs. Determination, perseverance. I can’t slack off now. If I die this meaningless death even if no one else knew, I will know. I will remember and it will eat at me forever. A meaningless death due to bleeding away on the cold ground of the Northern Marshlands of Thames... how pathetic. What a pathetic death for a samurai. No. I will not allow it. My first step was unsure, but the next one was solid. And the next, and the one after that. I start off with uneven strides with grew more steady with each step. In the end I walk as if I am not bleeding in places. My arms feel a bit numb and so does my torso- damn leeches- but my hit points can manage.

Slowly, I walk along the riverside of Thames. Shadows lurk beyond the trees and just beneath the water’s surface, but they dare not approach me. I hold my head high and the heavens soon agree that I cannot be defeated. The drops of rain become a drizzle and soon the rays of the sun break through the grey clouds. They first shine upon the dark Thames and reveal that the damn thing isn’t any prettier even under sunlight. The sun’s rays soon reach my resilient form and its heat is most welcome. Each ray that shines upon me takes away the cold raindrops which remained until none was left. My wounds soon stop bleeding; I feel the sticky sensation of clotted blood on my skin. I am sure that my arms and torso, and most probably my exposed thighs too, look worse than I can see. However, that is a problem for a later time. I have to get out of the Marshlands first; away from the dangers which lurk in the shadows and the figures which wait beneath the water’s surface.

I notice a clearing between the trees up ahead. I quicken my pace; faster, each step faster. Finally, I find the road home to Londenium. A long hike was in front of me but at least I know that there would be something at the end. The people whom I know, St. Pancras Station which I frequented in the past, Westminster Abbey which was my home for a few days while I was crying my eyes out after my first death- at the end of the road, I know that I will find them. My steps are still heavy because my mind is so tired, but I know my strengths and my weaknesses. I just have to hold on. This new body, this avatar that Elder Tale has given to me is basically immortal. Infinite lives, each one limited just by a gauge of hit points; nothing more, nothing less. Or maybe, there is something more up ahead and I will find that something, someday.

I pass by the many green trees that line the road to Londenium. Eventually I lean against one of those majestic things, so tired. My head begins to spin again. Maybe the poison mushrooms are not completely out of my system yet. I let out a sigh as I look up at the bright blue sky. The grey clouds drift away from my sight, farther to the distance until they vanish completely. I rub my eyes profusely; my sight is getting blurry. Should I sleep? Perhaps I should. I yawn and stretch. Ugh, my sides hurt. Though a bit worried about what I might see, I store my yoroi away into my inventory. WHOA. It does look bad.

I peer into my yukata because I noticed a crimson red stain on my left side. There is something stuck between my ribs. Damn. Why did I not feel that? Probably due to the leeches’ numbing bites. That something got between the small space where parts of my armor are connected. I look around to make sure that no one would see me... ah, to hell with it. I reach into my yukata and pull out the offending thing. IT HURTS. I cough and almost choke on air. The thing which wounded me was a piece of hardwood. Damn trees. Probably from a possessed stump? Damn stumps.

I toss the bloody piece of wood to the side. Now I’m bleeding out again. Great. I should have thought that over. Maybe if I keep my breathing slow and shallow, I will not bleed to death. I close my eyes so that I can rest. Bleep bleep bleep. Stupid alarm. What the hell is that anyway? I am still fazed... too disoriented to bring up my interface. Bleep. There it goes again. I guess I will just rest here until the stupid bleeping stops. Just a few minutes to rest. Just a little while... hopefully it will not rain again. When I wake up I will continue my walk towards Londenium. Bleep. Damn it. Stop bleeping! I want to sleep! Just give me a little while, just five minutes? Everything has gone quiet for some reason. My body feels light. Maybe I’m recovering already... maybe...

BLEEP.

OOC Notes: This is Caerbannog's second death. She died of 'Bleeding' status. The bleeps alerted her to critically low hitpoints.
Word Count: 2600
Tags: @dindeen

[Deleted]

A display of data crystals accompanied by a familiar glow appeared at Westminster Abbey. It meant that someone was respawning at the cathedral, again. At first it looked like an unrecognizable haze up front but the figure soon took shape. Fairly short compared to other respawning adventurers, the figure was that of a samurai who seemed to be resting against something. Her yoroi was not equipped thus she looked rather casual with just a black yukata, shorts and boots. Long strands of black hair fell over her shoulders and down her back. Her face was serene as if she was just sleeping when her hit points ticked away to zero.

Caerbannog soon opened her eyes of a blue color; she looked around her, a bit dazed, a bit confused. She almost fell backwards since there was nothing to lean on but she caught herself and prevented an embarrassing fall. The lander nun who approached her looked familiar... only then did the samurai realize that she was at Westminster Abbey. If she was there, that meant that she died for some reason. A look of shock appeared on her face as the nun came closer, worried for the girl whom she’d only seen respawn in the Abbey for the second time.

The samurai pulled her yukata open as she looked for the wound on her side, but of course, it was gone. Her body was completely healed from head to toe; or rather, it was back to the way it was before her hit points bled away. The death did not feel traumatic or fearful, quite unlike that time when she was player-killed. There was no scary adventurer over her dying body, and no blood all over the place. She died peacefully in her sleep as she bled away due to her wounds. Caerbannog looked up to the lander nun who was worried about her, and with a serene smile, the girl nodded at the kind person to show that she was fine.

The blue-eyed girl then stood up as if nothing happened. In the back of her mind she was worried that her death was meaningless, pointless. As she walked out of the Abbey, she wondered how she could ever talk about it with Ryuu; but she decided that she just would not. Thus began her first step to keeping things secret from her dearest friend, something that would probably haunt her later on. But at that moment, she thought it the best approach. What the girl did not know was the fact that she just lost another memory. It was something rather trivial; people usually lost useless memories anyway. No one noticed the loss due to that.

As for Kyuu, her first death in the hands of Stryke resulted to a loss of a bitter memory. Back when she was just a child around the age of seven, the girl was roughhousing much like any other child. Her cousins from her father’s side were there and they ran through the halls of the Schwarz house while playing tag. As she turned a corner, the girl accidentally ran into a large porcelain vase that seemed pretty generic by the looks of it. The vase tipped over and took the smaller Kyuu along with it, and soon there was a loud crash from that room. Her concerned cousins rushed to her side and saw that she was injured. Kyuu’s arms were cut up in many places due to the sharp edges of the broken porcelain. Nothing too serious, her mother suddenly said. The woman’s face was pale as she stared at the sight before her. Immediately, she threw Kyuu’s cousins out of the house and promptly beat up her own daughter for having broken her ‘favourite vase’. Strange. That vase had an exact replica in a far corner of the room. Anyway, it was a bitter memory which Kyuu surely would have been fond of losing, if only she knew that she lost it.

But for her second death, Kyuu lost a memory that was much more significant. It was something that she remembered when she was at the Marshlands, and probably that connection prompted the Elder Tale system to erase it from her mind. Back when she was in college, she’d gone out with some classmates. Not exactly her friends for the girl believed that she had few friends, if any. But either way, she got along with those people and they invited her so she went along. She ended up getting drunk, the first and only time that she ever did, and Ryuu had to take her home. Due to her second death, the samurai no longer remembered the events of that evening nor the fact that she had ever gotten drunk. It was significant in the sense that the assassin Kumori was there, and so it involved more than just one adventurer in Elder Tale’s reality.

An odd feeling nagged her for a while until Kyuu’s mind adjusted to the loss of that memory. Soon the samurai forgot why she even felt bad in the first place, and just worried about hiding the death from Ryuu. She looked around the Abbey and past its doors too to check if anyone familiar had seen her respawn, but aside from the lander nun, there was no one else that she knew. Kyuu sighed and headed for St. Pancras Station to check out the chef stalls just to get her mind off of the fact that she died a meaningless death. She hoped that someday, she would forget about it and truth be told, it was very possible if the samurai kept on dying.

OOC Notes: Two memories lost so far.
Word Count: 940
Tags: @dindeen

[Deleted]

If ever there was a memory that she would not want to lose, something that Kyuu could hope to hold onto forever, it was that time when she was a young child and spent a whole summer with her dear relatives in Japan. Initially there was a language barrier, yes, but that soon was overcome by the perseverance of both her grandparents and the girl herself. Kyuu was able to grasp the basics of the language and every so often learned about its nuances too. Being a girl who was just around a decade old, she did not think the language and culture strange, just different. Though unknown to her at that time, it was one of the reasons why she grew up rather open-minded and accepting of many things, even of people’s oddities.

Raised by a mother who cared little for her well-being and only brought the girl along so that it could act like an accessory to be whipped out for show, Kyuu was at first not sure if the affections that her relatives afforded to her were real. Initially, she only went along with their activities and teachings for she was afraid of being beaten up. Her mother hit her whenever she did something ‘wrong’ after all. But even with her mistakes and unintentional errors, Kyuu was never beaten or hurt by her relatives, only patiently reprimanded. They would calmly explain to her why her actions were inappropriate at times and from that, the girl learned to respect those of different beliefs and practices. Surprisingly, Kyuu was not so clumsy as child. She only had a few episodes of ever having run into and broken things, but as she grew up she became rather careless. That was a story for another time though.

As for her days in Japan, a most eventful one was a trip to the beach. The girl had never gone to see the ocean before since her mother cared only for socialite parties in large stone and marble houses where the occupants gave little attention to anything aside from their clothes and jewelry. Her grandparents were busy so Kyuu went to the beach with her mother’s older brother, his wife and their three children, and with her grandfather’s much younger but unfortunately widowed sister. Once she stepped out of the plain white van which was large enough to take their whole group out for that trip, Kyuu saw the ocean for the first time in her life. It was wide and seemingly endless of a beautiful blue color which was the reflection of the sky. The sun was halfway up to its zenith and it smiled upon the people who were gathered there to bask in its glory and to just have fun with the people who were important to them.

“ Kyuu-chan~ “ someone called for her; it was her aunt who soon gestured for the blue-eyed girl to follow them down to the beach.

She thought it nice to be called like that. It made her feel important or rather, it made her feel wanted. It was nice to be wanted, she thought back then. It made her look forward to each day and to each waking moment. Kyuu wasted no time after than one moment of contemplation. Her cousins found a stall that sold grilled squid, and it was one of the most interesting food items that she’d ever tried up until that point. But she was in Japan, and grilled squid was actually not as interesting as the other things that her cousins made her try. Since she was on the beach though, the variety of food was not that odd. Watermelon was always a welcome summer treat, and then she had some kakigoori flavored with matcha. Kyuu thought that green tea tasted weird at first, but eventually she grew to like it. As they checked each and every food stall, the girl progressively felt ill and eventually had to rest before she even dipped one foot into the ocean.

Her older relatives had a short discussion regarding their trip and what could be ailing the girl. They even considered going back home to take care of her, but that was something that Kyuu would not allow. She said that she merely needed to rest, though the girl was clearly pale and was cold all over. At first they thought that it was food poisoning, but her grandfather’s sister soon figure out that Kyuu was lactose intolerant since she felt ill only after having tried a milkshake. For about an hour, she was allowed to rest in a rented cottage by the ocean side while her cousins played in the ocean. Soon the color went back to her cheeks and her eyes were a brilliant blue again. After her uncle ascertained that Kyuu was doing well, she was allowed to play in the ocean along with other children of her age.

The first step that she took... Kyuu could not define that feeling. There was a mix of excitement and happiness, a bit of fear for the unknown, but her cousins were there and they led her by the hand. Perhaps it was a bit odd for a child to feel that way about something as trivial as a dip into the ocean, but for Kyuu who had been sheltered most of her life for all the wrongs reason, it felt liberating. A very welcome change to her world which used to be made up of only the four corners of her room. Little did she know that future events would cause her to prefer that small personal world instead of the oceans and mountains. Who would have thought that blue-eyed Kyuu would someday rather spend her time playing games and locked away from people, instead of running around under the sun? Surely, not her relatives who tried to show her that the world was not such a scary place. At that moment though, Kyuu merely enjoyed what was in front of her. And truth be told, that part of her never changed.

OOC Notes: Memory of the ocean. Age 10.
Word Count: 1010
Tags: @dindeen

[Deleted]

Averted eyes gazed upon
An endless crimson shore
No wind; no stars, night or sun
The ocean; nothing more.

The sky was blank and silent
The air was still and meek
Stars twinkled ultraviolet
Night was too dark to seek.

Her feet felt weak, felt heavy
Her heart felt numb, felt cold
Her hands were all but ready
Her name was all but called.

With just the shore before her
Beside the raging sea
No stormy howl or whisper
No bonds, no chains; set free.

Blue eyes, they were averted
To just the crimson shore
A path, never diverted
To power; nothing more.

I had a dream last night, or was it premonition? I was in a dark room with no sights or sounds around me. Everything was completely silent. Everything was completely still. I did not feel warm; I did not feel cold. I felt nothing. Have you ever had that kind of dream? At first it was fine. I've had lucid dreams before and they did not terrify me. I was aware, I knew that I was dreaming. And so I sat there, wherever it was, and just waited out what would transpire next. Dreams had a habit of shifting from one scene to another in an instant after all. So I waited, and I waited. There, in the darkness with nothing around me; not one peep, not one sigh. I could not even hear my own breathing.

Have you ever had that kind of dream? I did, last night. Or was it last night... maybe the night before, was it? In any case, I had that dream of no sights or sounds around me. It felt like such a long time and the more that I waited, the more I thought that maybe, just maybe, I was no longer dreaming. I was in Elder Tale, that much I remembered. What if it all ended? What if I had died without knowing it, and that I got stuck in the in-between? You know, that place between worlds. That secret space which Coraline crawled into to escape from her boring parents, but the difference was that her space was a fantastical one while mine was just completely empty.

There was nothing in that space. Just space. No sight or sound, no light, no murmuring; no breathing, no heartbeat. I soon wondered if I existed. I looked down at where my hands should be but I saw nothing. I blinked but it made no difference; everything around me remained the same. Blank, and nothing else. But I noticed something. I could -feel- that I existed. Even without sights or sounds I knew that I was still there. I looked down once again at where my hands should be and I closed them, then I opened them; I felt them. I existed.

As if that was the cue or the requirement, sights and sounds flooded my dream. Initially it was a blur as if all of my senses rushed at me at the same time. A figure in the distance, hushed sobbing; I could hear it. Once again I looked down at my hands. Crimson, a crimson colour. What was it? That familiar sight... it was... it was. Blood, blood everywhere. I glanced down at Zankapfel, my black garb was no longer black. It was stained a red colour, a dark red pigment; that of blood. My hands had not one flesh-coloured spot. All crimson.

My breathing began to grow erratic, my mind began to spin. To my left, to my right there was nothing but darkness. I then looked ahead at the figure; a figure sprawled upon the ground with crimson beneath. Dark brown hair, face turned away from me but I could recognize who it was. Ryuu. The only anchor that I had between who I was before and who I am now. As he lay then in crimson puddle motionless, seemingly lifeless, a shadow appeared beside him. The sobbing grew louder and louder and louder until the shadow was- the shadow was Kyuu. Was me. Not the samurai, not the wolf-hair, not the chef or animal trainer. It was me. With the unkempt hair, with the loose long-sleeved shirt with a large black cat up front; it was me that night when the Catastrophe happened.

For seconds, minutes or perhaps hours upon end, I sobbed. And I watched as I sobbed beside that person who lay in the crimson puddle. I noticed that I was watching, and I looked at me. The me who was a samurai, a wolf-hair, an avatar within the game Elder Tale. Similar eyes of a deep blue color like the bluest sky reflected upon an endless expanse of ocean. Ebony hair that was all but neatly combed or tucked away. I looked at me, eyes asking. I averted my gaze away from me, but I soon spoke up.

“ Weak... so weak, “ I said, “ Become stronger. “

I looked back at me. Our eyes met, blue upon blue. Eyes widened. Weak? I was weak? The crimson in my hands was both my fault and not. Sixty-six levels was hardly enough. Stronger. I must get stronger or... or... I will lose my anchor. Around me, figures appeared from the darkness. They were faded, ghost-like. The dear baby Alraune with a sad face. Please don’t be sad, baby. Scoria and his glare. As always. Capsule and her fiery hair, with Fiver poised to rain-dance. Oh Fiver. @0x1dea, asleep. Again? Stryke who looked away. Defiant. Saber, in his silence. Alone.

Ryuu and the crimson disappeared; Kyuu faded away. Soon replaced, quickly exchanged with a different figure. Dark brown hair past his shoulders, a cloak around him. Kumori, his eyes closed. Asleep too? No. No he isn't. He did not want to look at me because I was weak, is what I thought. I sat there in the darkness with the crimson gone. The figures slowly faded away. I could hear nothing once again; no sobbing, no murmurs. I could see nothing again; no crimson, no shadows. But I could feel that I existed. I was still there. For what purpose?

Stronger. I will be stronger.

I will conquer it all and break through.

I want to find out what lies beyond: field bosses, Windsor Castle, Sarum... the borders of Londenium.

I will conquer it all.

OOC Notes: Determination to become 'stronger' than Level 66. RP will remain mostly the same, just with minor internal conflict and focus on completing specific goals.
Word Count: 1060
Tags: @dindeen

[Deleted]

Perhaps it was rude of her to do so, but as Caerbannog sat upon her perch halfway up the remains of what seemed to be Tower 42, she was able to watch the daily lives of the landers and adventurers on the streets below. Most of them passed by without a care in the world; adventurers living in their new reality as if they had been born into it, and landers living as if they were not in the danger of dying any time soon. But the samurai knew that beyond the walls of the great city of Londinium, there lay very real dangers. She, as an adventurer, needed not be afraid so much primarily due to her capabilities and secondarily due to her infinite amount of lives. But the landers which scuttled down below her feet were much more short-lived. For she sat on an overhanging portion of the building, indeed the People of the Land were directly below her. Yet rather than a superior or a master, she felt as if she had the obligation to defend the people of Londinium from the dangers of Windsor, Thames and Sarum; even beyond that, if given the chance.

At that moment, Caerbannog was distracted from her serious thoughts by the sight of a child who seemed to be lost in the crowd. The child had a hand-sewn doll in its arms and looked around frantically for a familiar face, but the crowd was steadily getting busier as the minutes ticked by and soon, that child was lost in the sea of faces. But from the sidewalk, another figure darted into the raging sea and soon pulled out the child from all that turmoil. The samurai could not help but smile at the scene where a slightly older boy helped what could be a friend or a sibling. With a few words that the wolf-hair could not hear, the boy was able to calm down the child and soon they walked away hand in hand. It reminded Caerbannog of her own days in the real world where she was but a child and a certain friend of hers always pulled her out of trouble, but that was a story for another time.

Presently, the samurai pondered upon which path she should take as she inched closer to the ninetieth level. It is said, and it seemed to be common knowledge, that upon reaching Level 90 then all manner of experience points gathering for that class would halt. Killing monsters and finishing dungeons would not yield experience points... instead, the next level could be attained by completing specific quests scattered throughout the world of Elder Tale. Caerbannog thought that boring and tedious, but the rumored existence of Overskills, which could only be unlocked by reaching Level 90 and beyond was a tempting promise. Unlike regular skills of various tiers, Overskills were not defined solely by the rules of Elder Tale. Instead, each player which had access to the creation and usage of Overskills could define their own Overskill. That thought was slightly enticing to the samurai, though she next questioned its practical usage in her daily life. Her skillset was already enough to create the effects that she wanted, would it not just be greedy of her to want more?

Ever since Caerbannog had taken up the sword, at first due to obligation yet subsequently due to sheer determination to become stronger, her eyes had always been set on attaining Level 90. She had never wanted anything more; not a guild, not any friends, and most especially, never in her previous days had she ever dreamt of finding a different kind of love. But in her present state where everything was working out well, or more than just ‘well’ it was going rather brilliantly, would she risk all of that for an unknown quest? And if she did ever succeed in all her quests and requirements, would the people around her still be there? As far as the girl knew, she was the one closest to the Overskill tier; only her and no one else. The guild leader of Aeryn was still a few ways behind, and her other friends were halfway or three-fourths of the way there.

And so it was decided that she would wait. Caerbannog, in all her adventures and journeys, did not want to be alone anymore. What was the use of playing an MMORPG if you will only go alone? Elder Tale was reality, that was true; but it was never meant to be played alone either, not its endgame content at least. Though perhaps a new patch will add more content eventually, maybe allowing them to surpass Level 100 or gain a Rebirth effect or something similar... but all of those proved that no man or woman could be an island. Even people who called themselves ‘lone wolves’ in MMORPGs could only lone-wolf the game to a certain extent, and if they wanted more, as they usually did, then they would have to put their lives in the hands of others. That’s what parties were for, and for larger goals, that’s what guilds were for.

Caerbannog, once again, looked down at the streets beneath her feet. Both landers and adventurers walked about and went on with their business, not knowing that a pair of blue eyes watched them from above. Her knowledge and experience made her feel powerful, and indeed from that position, the samurai could fire an arrow into a crowd and kill a Person of the Land forever. She in turn would just be killed by a Guard, and then she would respawn in the Abbey. Not much loss on her end, but a life lost for a lander. Yet rather than choose that kind of path, one that she could easily take after all, Caerbannog would rather walk the path of the Protector and one that would remain in the shadows. It sounded oddly like the life of a certain masked superhero especially with the black theme, but the samurai was neither a hero nor a protagonist. With every fight that she faced and every victory that she attained, and with every loss that she had to endure, each death that she accepted- Caerbannog found her purpose for existing. But what that was is something for her to know and for no one else to find out.

OOC Notes: Decision to halt leveling.
Word Count: 1060
Tags: @dindeen

[Deleted]

So it was one of those days again huh? When the wide sky was grey and the samurai felt as if everything was going wrong. It was not the first time, and surely it would not be the last. Recently she'd been having a lot of small fights with Kumori, for the most ridiculous reasons, really. There was something that she definitely needed to change about herself, and that was her inability to forgive. To Caerbannog, a wrong was a wrong and no right could ever make up for it. How did she deal with that then? The wolf-hair tended to just 'forget' about little problems and issues. She would run off to do other things to get mind off of the negativity. Maybe she was running away from her problems? It could be that. But all her life, that was how she dealt with grievances. People did not really care about other people, that much she knew. They only apologized to make themselves feel better. Perhaps it was the result of the environment that she grew up where her mother was such a two-faced b... person. She heard her mother say so many nice things to other people when in front of them, but also heard the bitter and mean things that the woman really thought. Even words of thanks were empty and condolences were fake. It was all just a show to make the world think that she was the perfect woman, the perfect wife, the perfect mother.

But their relatives knew better. Of course, they would not say something terrible about Kyuu's mother to other people; that would have made them look awful too. That was how the world worked after all. A person, even if fully capable of making her own decisions, was always evaluated as the sum of all her companions and experiences. It was never that person's fault... it was the fault of those around her. Caerbannog, having grown up to this environment, had decided to go against the flow instead of taking the easy route. She could just dump her responsibilities on her family and stay cooped up in her house while playing video games all day, and everything that would go wrong, she could blame on someone else. But something about that did not feel right to her. Perhaps that was a reason why she came to love tanking. Having been a healer before in other games, she knew not to blame her healers. As a tank, she had so many skills in her list and those could keep her alive. If anything, she could use a potion or pill to restore her health if the healer's hands were full. She could direct the pace of a party; for that reason, backseat drivers annoyed her quite a bit. But if their commands were within reason, she would agree with them. That was not to say that she would just go along with the plan though. The guild leaders of Aeryn and Apocrypha probably knew that well.

Having thought of that as she sat on the rooftop of Westminster Abbey, possibly close to Nisha's "den", Caerbannog looked up at the wide sky above her. It was still grey. Such a good day to sleep in, but the samurai was unable to get a wink of sleep. She had a lot of things in her mind and that included something about a guild. Quite a while ago, or was that yesterday, she had run off in the middle of a mentoring attempt. Caerbannog thought that she saw Hyzenthlay behind some woods, but it turned out to be a random frenmic rabbit. Too embarrassed to return to the adventurers that she left behind, the samurai just used Call of Home to return to the Abbey. That avoided any awkward scenes, and eventually it led to Caerbannog's quiet moment on the rooftop. Perhaps it was a good time to ask the counsel of her wise Foreman Mukade IX, but then she remembered that he was still unlearned in the ways of the world. His own viewpoint had been so small until she tamed him, and the centipede had just started to expand his horizons. With more time and experience, maybe he would be a good mentor to other tamed pets but for the moment, he still had much to learn. Caerbannog was the same. Even with her level, she thought nothing of it and faced anything new as just that- something new. She was not above admitting when she did not know something.

The woman on horseback had said something back then about a school. Was it a guild or a school? She could not remember exactly. Either way, it was interesting and Caerbannog wished the best to that guardian, but that really was not the wolf-hair's thing. Speaking of her race, she did wonder how the woman figured out what her race was. Caer made sure to hide it from her interface and even her ears were neatly tucked beneath her hair. But even with her ears up and about, she could just as easily have been mistaken for a foxtail. What the woman did give away was that she herself was a wolf-hair, for the samurai remembered that she had pertained to Caerbannog as a "fellow wolf-hair". The blue-eyed girl wondered how that mentorship went but really, it was none of her business. Caerbannog now remembered why she only invited people to join her party privately and had not joined public parties before. The latter had the tendency to bloat to a ridiculous number, something that she learned back when they had to form two parties to gather some animals for a farm. Maybe it made her world limited and small, but she liked it that way. What was her goal? Caer never cared to be the best or to be the strongest. She just did everything that she could to the best of her abilities. She was not worried about gathering people and pushing them towards a common goal. That was Kumori's thing. What was her reason for existing? Ah, a question that comes to mind accompanied by a grey sky.

OOC Notes: Why does Caerbannog exist?
Word Count: 1025
Tags: @dindeen