The GM’s have been very nice in aiding with the festival, adding tents to the celebration areas in Antonica

Last night I decided to take a break completely from things. I was going to work on L&L for Stargrace, and decided not to. I declined power leveling and guildies. I decided to say no to crafting. So what did I do? Well, a few guilds on Antonia Bayle have been hosting the Festival of Unity. It is a week long event located mostly in Antonica so that people from various factions can attend and not worry about the guards. There are games, contests, prizes to be won. It was one of the best nights I’ve ever had in EverQuestII. I’ll be posting my role play version of this event a little later today, but in the mean time here’s an overview.

At about 8:15pm EST, an auction began in Windstalker village. Nice of the GM’s to erect a stage and some tents for the festivities.

The crowd was huge, there were people of all factions, races, and guilds gathered together. The bidding began at 10g and went steadily up from there. The funds went half to the festival community to help pay for things like food and drink and costumes, and the other half went to the people auctioned. It was all in good fun, and it seemed that most people enjoyed themselves. It may sound a little weird, auctioning someone off in an MMO, but they were “dates” for the night, for the tavern event that was to follow the auction. Everyone volunteered themselves, no one was forced. Some people went for as high as 10p. Misako herself tried to make a few bids, but it was a little to steep for her pockets.

Afterwards the Fellowship of the Dragon hosted a fishing competition on the docks in Windstalker village. The winner was Shirrar, who got some nice prizes. Other prizes were donated to the second and third place winners. I had a lot of fun playing a reporter, and wandering around the event in general. There were peddlers selling their wares, froglok totems made from by real frogloks, dresses in case you had nothing to wear to the event, food and drink abound. There was also fortunes told, by Drakael - or rather, futures told. Misako got in on that as well, as there was a huge line up. The event was quite popular. The auction itself went on for nearly three hours, while people wandered around the event. After the auction and while the fishing competition was finishing up, Annwen gathered a crowd beneath a huge old tree to talk about some old Norrathian stories, her tale of the night was about Mujaki the Devourer - I couldn’t listen to the entire story though as it was Misako’s turn to have her future told.

There were drinking competitions hosted along with the stories, and at midnight EST there were card games. My eyeballs were threatening to close by 11:30 though, so I had to call it an early night. I really had a great time. If you’re looking for more information on the festival, you can find it here there are events like lemming cliff diving, there were jousting tournaments, and there’s so much more. There is an event schedule as well. There is also another post with some screen shots of the event here in the offical AB forums. If you’re on the AB server, I suggest you check it out and embrace what a wonderful server you’re apart of, and even if you’re not from AB I’d suggest rolling an alt just to see the events.

(( An Rp story on how Misako came to Freeport, since I betrayed her some time ago from mystic to defiler ))

Misako glanced around her humble inn room in East Freeport and grinned at herself. She’d finally done it. After everything that had gone on in her young life she’d finally managed to save up enough coin to purchase her very own place. Her possessions were not many, but they were hers. She thought back to how she had come to Freeport to begin with, and her heart ached slightly.

It started with a boy, of course. Well, more like a man. His name was Farid, and he was everything to her. They’d met in the sewers of all places. Not exactly the most romantic of settings, but it was love at first sight, or well, it felt like it. They connected instantly. It was intense. Farid was a powerful sorcerer in Freeport, although Misako did not know that at the time. She only knew that she cared beyond anything she had ever felt before. He showed her things she’d only dreamt of, and whispered in her ears of power and promises that enticed her to give up her Qeynosian ways. After thinking on it for some time, she decided that Qeynos had nothing to offer her. She’d become bored with the daily worships of Tunare and the people who spouted off about the evils befalling them. Evils? Farid was not evil. Perhaps it was time she saw things from a different light. So she’d said goodbye to her family, to her twin sister Stargrace, and left for Freeport, promising Farid that she’d to anything in her power to keep him happy and that she’d one day make a good wife for him.

She should have known better. Before she left, Stargrace pulled her aside for one last sister to sister talk. Warning her to be careful and whispering to keep in touch. Stargrace had slipped a small pouch of coins into Misako’s pockets before dashing away down the street, tears streaming from her eyes. Misako’s heart had gone out to her twin sister, but this was something that she wanted to do. Something she had to do. Upon arriving in Freeport, Misako had gone off in search of Farid. Not knowing her way around she’d stumbled into a random inn, seeking shelter from an abrupt downpour that had caught the poor wood elf.

” We’ve no use fer your kind here… ” Sneered the barkeep, washing the counter tops with a dirty rag.

“I’ve got coin.” Misako slapped a silver piece down, making sure to look the barkeep squarely in the eye. She wasn’t going to let people push her around. “I’d like a mug of ale, and some bread.” She made herself comfortable.

“Big spender are ye..” The barkeep smirked and waddled towards the kitchen, scooping up the silver from the counter as he went. His girth surprised Misako, who could ever want to let themselves go like that.

A woman’s laugh from the back corner of the room drew Misako’s attention, and she turned to see who it came from. Her jaw dropped open, and her heart instantly cracked in half. Some common wench was perched upon Farid’s lap, grinding suggestively against him, he was whispering in her ear, his hands cupped a breast teasingly, and Misako let out a low gasp of dismay. His eyes widened as he glanecd towards Misako, the wench running her hands in places that were far better suited to a private room.

“How.. how could you!” She let the words fly out before gathering her belongings quickly and running from the inn. Her breath came in ragged hitches and her hands shook. She felt utterly betrayed. She should have known better. Stargrace had tried to warn her. She ducked down an alley, and leaned up against a wall, tears streaming down her face. Suddenly a dark shadow crossed in front of her. Farid.

“Get away from me,” she practically growled. “I do not want to see you.” She tried to control her words but anger seeped through every one.

“Misa, come on now.. she was nothing to me.. we can work this out..” His voice was calm and collected. Power radiated from him. He advanced towards her and a shiver of fear shot through Misako. His eyes flashed violet and she realized that this person was not the Farid she’d met a year ago. The power had claimed him as it’s own, he was someone else. Someone mean. It had to be.

“I..I.. I’m warning you!” she stuttered. “Pplease, leave me alone.” She was afraid now, of this dangerous stranger who crept up closer to her.

“You’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” he scoffed at her. “Silly girl. Forget this, and come back with me.” He reached out his hand and a blue spark danced along it.

“Get back!” Misako screamed, and pulled a small dagger from her boot, it wasn’t that sharp but it would do in a pinch. She brandished it before her with shaky hands. Farid laughed at her.

“What are you going to do with that, hmmm?”

“I warned you.” She hissed. He stepped closer again, and raised his arm. Murmuring under his breath, a gust of wind pushed her back against the wall in the alley, and held her there. She struggled against it but could not move.

“Warned me?” He laughed again, low and menacing. “You’ve no idea what powers you play with, child.”

Again the thought came to her that this was not Farid. That something had happened to him, something had changed. With her mind acting along it’s own violation, she closed her mind from him. She took a step forward. He lunged towards her, and her dagger came down and buried itself in his chest. Directly in his heart. The blue spark faided from Farid’s fingertips and his eyes returned to their normal hue. He sunk to the ground into a muddy puddle, and looked up at Misako with disbelief. He opened his mouth as though to say something, and all that came out was a gurgle of blood.

Misako stepped away from the gruesome sight, and shook herself into awareness. She’d just.. murdered.. someone. The dagger clattered to the street, what had she done. She’d killed Farid. She could never go back to Qeynos now. She’d had blood on her hands. What had she done. The words rolled over and over in her mind, like some nightmare that refused to end.

That was over a year ago now though. The events that took place. That night. Each day she lived in fear that Lucan himself would find her and drag her to the torture chambers to flog her alive for her misdeeds. Then she reminded herself that this was Freeport, not Qeynos, and another dead body in the streets meant nothing. She was sure the guards hadn’t even flinched. She had not bothered to contact her sister or anyone from Qeynos since the incident. She knew she’d marred herself and that no one from Qeynos would dare to speak to her had they known what had happened. So she’d made a life for herself in Freeport, selling her wares as a tailor. It was never much coin but it was enough to get by on. After a year of saving.. she’d purchased her new inn room, and there she was.

Some times, you just need a change

“I seek advice,” the dark elf spoke in stuttered sentences, trying to gather the nerve to continue on with her thoughts. She stood in a room with a mirror and nothing else. The walls were brightly coloured, and a rich carpet lay on the floor. A strand of hair fell over one eye and she brushed it away absentmindedly. After a few seconds with no reply (not that there was anyone around to answer) she continued.

“I feel… restless..” She hedged around the words. “Unsatisfied. Not only with myself, but just in general. I have no direction… not since… well.. since he died…” She trailed off, and blinked away some unshed tears. She looked down and quickly tried to clear her mind, noticing a small patch of lighting flickering from one finger to the next, a curse (or blessing some would think) from Solseuk Ro, the Burning Prince. She managed to calm her emotions before continuing.

“Let me start from.. well.. the start. Things were not always this way. Things were happy, for a time. I felt things. Good things.” She lowered her voice as she remembered them. The time after her accident, when she was taken care of. When the prophets first spoke to her about the Burning Prince and what he wanted her to do. She felt needed, and wanted. It quickly got out of hand though. The exhilaration of the heat.. the flames.. as they licked their way through her body. The storm that followed quickly after, it consumed her. Before too long, she was lost in it. Ignoring both friend and foe she heard nothing but the call of the Prince. Entire forests fell before her, and in the night time hours her once violet eyes glowed red instead. It was too much.

She woke one night and could not recall the events that transpired. The thought scared her beyond belief. She had pushed aside everyone to obtain her goals with single mindedness and was standing in an open field the stench of something… wafting up around her with an underlying metallic scent. There were no animals around, no birds calling. No people. Just her, clothing slightly scorched and a pounding headache. She glanced at her hands, blackened. It repulsed her. Something had to change. This was not her it did not feel right it was not right it –

“Ugh..” She let out a soft moan and sunk to her knees on the floor.

“It’s not too late.” Came a very quiet whisper almost next to her ear. “You know you are always welcome home.”

The elf sighed and wrapped her arms around her knees, rocking herself on the floor.

“Tell me what to do, have I made a mistake?” She asked the empty room.

“Just.. feel..” Came the voice. A hand brushed against the elf’s cheek, and wrapped protectively around her, a small attempt at comfort. The elf let out her tears, the water coursing down her cheeks. So much pain and confusion built up that finally spilled over. She hoped, that things would only get better from here. That she’d find some strength, and lose her curse.

(( Restless tonight. I’m in a cranky mood and decided to spew my moods all over my blog. Been a while since I’ve written an Rp story, hopefully a lot more will follow, not quite as dreary ))

(( A continuation of all the other Silverstep Rp notes I have on this site ))

Silverstep tried to clear her head from the fog that surrounded her, and blinked one lazy eye open. The events of the past few days drifted through her mind and she grimaced, wondering if half of it were not some sort of weird dream. Alas, she knew it was not.

Upon waking, she was briefed, that was the best word to describe it. By a prophet of Solusek Ro, the Burning Prince himself. She was told that her life was owed to him. That they had brought her back from the brink of death by whatever means they had available (on this fact it was made no clearer), and thus she was in debt. She didn’t have the energy to argue, or question it. Her thoughts seemed muddled and there were portions of her daily life that did not make sense any more. So she accepted this debt she had incurred without question. The druid who had life in South Freeport was no more, and even though one may look at these changes and see them as some sort of manipulation by the Burning Prince and his prophets, Silverstep took it in stride. She did not have many friends after all, things could be worse.

The prophet never told Silverstep what was required of her. Only that she was needed for some future plan. There had been vast rumors spreading throughout both Qeynos and Freeport, of the return of the Gods. It seemed the tremors throughout the land were proof enough of Brell’s eventual return. Each day Silverstep grew a little stronger, her recovery more apparent. With this recovery came changes though. The once tame and quiet druid explored the woods alone one day, and found herself with a branch in her hands, slowly spinning it between her fingers. She contemplated life, and what it had handed her. What she had made from it. Anger slowly fused under the surface and the branch burst into flames. She gasped and dropped it to the ground, ashamed at herself for daring to destroy something of nature’s hands. It was not the last time that the Burning Prince would exert his power over her.

She moved to Qeynos, as the prophet advised. She really had no alliance towards the city of Freeport or Qeynos, though she did miss her home quite a bit, she remained impartial in that regard at least. She tried to think back, to see if perhaps she had at one time stood up for either of the leaders in Norrath, and could simply not remember. She grew frustrated over these pockets of missing information. The prophets told her it was common, with the mind moving so close to the spiritual wall of death. It did not lessen her worries any, but she kept them to herself.

On the way home one day, the man whose voice she had heard along side the prophets stopped her at her door. His eyes gazed into hers and she shivered for no explainable reason.

“Can I help you?” She asked some what strained, she was not in the mood to be around people this evening.

He said nothing to her, but embraced her suddenly, and lowered his lips to hers. Hot fire shot through her and she tried to pull back, some what dazed.

“That,” he murmured, “is for being so beautiful.” She lost her footing, and fell to the ground, the man letting her drop and making no effort at all to stop the fall.

“That, is for being a traitor.” He turned away from her, leaving her to pick herself up from the ground, and went on his way down the street. Silverstep brushed herself off, blushing like a fool. She fumbled with the doorknob and let herself into the house, ashamed that she had let someone affect her so. She dropped a few books onto the counter tops and tried to seek some solitude in the garden. She felt enclosed, and confined, had to get away to some open space.

No one else in South Qeynos that night noticed the thunderclouds that hung low towards only one house. The low rumble of the storm reverberated between homes and scared a cat, but again, no one noticed. She was very much the nobody that she had always been.

(( For those who never read, Silverstep attempted to kill herself a little while ago when I was going to leave Eq2, but we all know that never works out and I needed an rp excuse to have her alive, her last rp ended as someone rushed into her house, screaming her name. This is the aftermath of that. More will follow as I plan it out ))

The voices were hushed and Silverstep could barely make them out with the ringing in her ears, she remembered nothing that would have caused the thumping she felt. Even the insides of her eyelids seemed to ooze with pain, and so she lay where ever she was, and listened.

“Why are we doing this again?” Came a cool smooth voice, male from what Silverstep could decipher. “I see nothing in this for me, your “God” may want this woman to live, but again, I ask what exactly do we gain from it? Besides some sniveling woman who is too far out of it right now to be of any use to anyone let alone the burning prince himself!” The voice rose at the end, and Silverstep tried not to wince as it echoed through her head reverberating against her temple.

“My.. Lord…” Hissed a softer voice, one that sparked no memories, “This woman.. sshe iss needed. That iss all you need to know. You agreed to the tassk. You ssaved her from death.. brought her back here to me.. that iss all you were hired to do. All that was required of you. You have no right nor authority to quesstion anything further.. ” There was the sound of papers shuffling along some sort of object, and the distinct clinking of coin hitting against each other. “I asssume, that thiss will be ssuficient funding for you?” Silverstep could almost hear the sneer that followed the comment.

“Indeed.” Came the curt reply.

“Then leavess the resst to me, and be on your way,” the dismissal was apparent to Silverstep even as she lay there in her partially conscience state. She tried to remember what had happened, what she had been doing, why her head felt as though it wanted to explode, and came up with nothing. No thoughts or memories of the last few hours. She could remember where she lived, her name, her family (or lack of one) but nothing more at that moment.

Footsteps approached her and she tried to open her eyes to no avail, a heavy cloth covered them, protecting them from a heavy light source. She tried to open her mouth and squeak out a word, anything, to let her captors know she was awake, but failed miserably and lay there trying to keep a grasp on reality before the pit of blackness swallowed her up again.

“Yess…” whispered the soft voice again, “you will do well, girl. You will sserve the burning prince jusst fine..” Something wet was pressed against her lips, and the blackness came to swallow her once more.

(( Since Silverstep was started on an Rp server, and my account expires tomorrow.. it seemed only fitting.. that she also have an rp ‘ending’ ))

Silverstep glanced around the once lush home, and sighed. How things had changed. The once cheerful fire place was nothing but a collection of soggy logs that refused to ignite. The paintings that had always appeared to dance along the walls now hung coated in a thick layer of dust, uncared for. The dark elf hugged herself as the tears trickled along her cheeks, reminiscing about what once was.

“It does no good to remember,” she scolded herself. “Things change.. you’ve changed.” The melancholy she felt was her own fault, she knew from the start. It was just simply not meant to last. With those she held close to her moving on with their lives, she began to distance herself. Such was the way things worked, or at least that is what she convinced herself of.

Tripping over one of the fir boxes used for selling wares in the main room, she cursed. The sound echoed off of the walls and sounded empty and hollow, not rich and full of emotion as she once felt. Had it only been a few months ago? Time had sunk into an oblivion that simply had no meaning.

“It is better this way…” she whispered. Trying to convince herself that it was true. Upon the counter she left a note, explaining why she was no longer meant for this world. Or any world for that matter. She spoke of love lost and dreams crushed, apologizing to those few people who would be affected by her decision. There were not many, she’d pushed the majority of them away over the years. She blamed no one but herself. In her heart she carried burdens too great and numerous to mention. The sadness that washed over her became unbearable. Melodramatic? Of course. It was how she lived her life, flying from one extreme emotion to the next. It was how nature had molded and formed her, and she would wish no other course for her life.

Glancing at the numerous volumes of old books that surrounded her library, she allowed herself a small smile. Silverstep had worked exceptionally hard at refining her library. It was her pride and joy. Spending countless hours with the literature that had never asked anything of her in return. Her slim hands reached out and brushed against the worn cover of one titled “The Oops Factor”, and she smirked to herself, recalling how she had told everyone that it was most certainly a book about teen pregnancy or some other such ‘mistake’ of life. How fitting that it all end here.

She gathered her skirts and sat on the rug, before the book of the dead that had graced the small ornate table for so many years. The flickering candles that surrounded her made the room seem ghastly instead of warm and welcoming. Her eyes gazed longingly around the room, drinking it all in as she murmured a prayer under her breath to the gods, asking for it not to be a painful end. She begged them to understand there was no other solution, no other way to end her suffering and misery. There were those who would of course argue that it was a cowards way out, but for someone such as she….. it was all there was, plain and simple.

Picking up a small knife from the floor, Silverstep murmured a single name under her breath, and slid the blade across her pale flesh, gasping in incredible pain as her life blood began spilling out across the floor. She bit her lip as the world began to spin black, trying not to cry out and her heart the only sound she could hear echoing through her mind as she slumped to the floor. Her fingers managed to drag through the blood, writing out a single word, before her breathing stopped.

From beyond her, someone crashed through the doorway, praying they were not too late.

“SILVERSTEP NO!” They screamed, and then her world went black.

Last night we (implying me and my 5 other guild mates who were grouped together in thundering steppes, working on the dreaded armor quests) had a pleasant surprise, Pascolino was busy telling a story to a bunch of people (how he can off and ramble about his adventures while we’re busy killing griffins I’ve no idea) which I’ll post here following, but anyhow, Tixha the guide from the shattered lands stopped by seemingly out of no where to watch our little adventures. Whether it was Pascolino’s story or the fierce battles that brought her our way we’re really not certain, but it was fun none the less. Pleasant and ‘cute as a button’ as she put it, she handed out cake and latte to the entire group, what sweetness! I asked if I could take her picture and she said she could dance for me, it was funny. Though she did come to us in the form of a Ratonga, I think the looks Splooge was giving her was enough to turn her into something less yummy looking.

We managed to complete two armor quests, for Ynn and Mareck, though we did have our fair share of deaths along the way. We also picked up a few new guild members. It’s refreshing at times to be playing with new people. Frustrating at other times since they’re (not their fault) a little less…. experienced…in most cases.

So, Pascolino is known and becoming more known on the server for his stories that he tells. They’re always truthful from what I can grasp, and I enjoy listening to them. He decided last night he would tell the tale of how he ‘obtained’ Silverblade, the name of his weapon that shoots lightning from it every so often. The 20-29 channel listened eagerly to the tale, so here it is:

“Pascolino momma is very poor and she must support 7 girls so it is up to pascolino to support her. Now when i live in freeport i hang out with my best friend Rrrico-Tah! she a ratonga, she teach me how to steal from the richer denizens, yes the dark elves…She much better than pascolino at stealing but she always disappear and leave Pascolino to earn his own way, so the first time pascolino try to steal from dark elves alone, was the time he find this sword. now pascolino no know how to pick houses like rrico-tah but momma need money so i try anyway,…i find one in south freeport that smell like perfume like a lady…*breathes in* ahhhh yes Pascolino know there are treasures inside.

“So i use my Swashbuckler skills to break in, and in the dark i rummaged about but found nothing, not even 1 jewel. i did not have much time to search when the lights turned on and before me the most striking, ebautiful Dark Elf woman imaginable appeared. Pascolino did not know whether to stare or run, of course I choose run eventually and made for the window.

Maebus chimed in and said “and that was when she turned you into a frog, yes?”

No But she did use MAGIC! She cast a spell and pascolino froze he could not run. then she spoke what are you doing in my residence infidel, do you knwo the penalty for breaking into a Teir Dals home? Pascolino could not lie, so i say proudly I am pascolino Ciete’bellezzas and i come here to steal from you to support my MOMMA. I saw her chuckle….for a dark one her face was kind …then she say It is punishable by death to steal from a woman of my rank…but you have a certain silly charm about you Pascolino Ciete’bellezzas. i think make the face like a see puppies do to help me squeeze out of trouble. o finally the Dark one, she walks to a chest You are bold and i see some promise in you, and for this ill allow you to leave, but know that you will owe the dark lady Silverstep a request in the days to come then she walk over to a chest and out of it pull out this sword, a pristine imbued steel falchion, its blade gleamed boldly she say take this Pascolino, you will not leave my house empty handed but remember you owe me now.

Now Rico-ta say don’t do it, never trust the dark elves they bad people, but Pascolino say this woman too beautiful to be bad, and besides momma always say every woman no matter how mean has a lil sugar in her heart. You just need to stir the pot. So i take the sword and say pascolino CIete’bellezzas will shout your name whenever i use it i say this proudly then i bow! but before i can readjust myself from the bow, the woman silverstep she kick me swiftly and very hard right in the chin!!! Before i was overwhelmed by darkness she said And that is what you get for breaking into my home. I wake up later in the ruins outside freeport, i still had the sword and now a very sore jaw! But i use the sword and shout her name, and that is how i acquire this weapon!!! The Silverblade (i name it myself). That is my story friends, thank you for listening, just don’t tell momma I steal, or she would beat me!

And there you have it, more or less the story that Pascolino told last night. This may not be an RP server, but as long as there are a few people interested in it, it’s fun. The night may not have been exceptionally productive from my point of view. I hate dying after all. I’m impatient, and moody as of late for other reasons that don’t involve the game, but it was nice to be able to let my mind wander and not always dwell on sad things. The guide coming by was just icing on the cake.

“Pft, it won’t be dangerous! T’is just dead things!” Willamina pulled Pascolino along through nektulos forest by the arm, eager to show off her new adventuring location. She’d stumbled into it by accident, after hearing some tidbits from her friend Gholdmoon. She had not intended on wandering through the darkened tunnels, no not at the time. But she certainly had a lot of fun while she did it! It was something that had to be shared! It was far better then trees that moved. Those things gave her the creeps.

The Lair of the Necromancer is a solo instance (but a group can zone in, or at least a group of two can, I’ve yet to try it with more) which is located directly behind the dragoon you use in the heritage quest shiny brass halberd, which I’m sure I’ll be doing some time shortly. It has a very small loot table, but was still pretty fun and while it’s a cut and paste version of the fallen gate instance, the final boss room has some nice looking statues.

Willamina is now a 27 necromancer, 24 sage, I’ll have to catch her up again. I’ve been using Silverstep to farm T3 roots for the tailor, who is just a smidgen away from 29 now. The blasted crafting books are exceptionally expensive for 20-29 it seems, I’ve little to no chance of grabbing advanced jeweler volume 28. It has all the palladium recipes in it, and is sought after by numerous people (unfortunately). The others are still sitting at their regular levels, Ricotta 26 jeweler since I’ve been lack luster in playing her. Nesia is way behind in carpenter levels, but I’ll get to it eventually!

(( Written from the perspective of Lillias, who is a new character of mine, look for more stories from her over the next little while, we’ll see how it goes ))

The trip was damp and cold, and more then once I had to lean over the edge of the ship to relieve myself of whatever meager meal I’d eaten for the day. Soaked and chilled to the bone only made the situation worse, and my thoughts ran ramped through my head. I clutched my sisters journal to my chest, one of a few personal belongings that were mailed to me weeks previous. The whole reason I was on the blasted boat to begin with.

My eyes glazed over as I went back and thought about what had happened, and tried to block out all other feelings. I felt slightly ill and forced the bile back down my throat which of course only made it burn and caused my eyes to water.

“We regret to inform you, Miss, that your sister is dead,” the words rang through me and I think I must have grabbed ahold of the doorway to steady myself. This was not exactly the message I had expected. Tonight of all nights. They must have the wrong house.

“Dead.. there must be some mistake?” I practically screeched at the messenger who backed off a few feet from the doorway, as though I may lunge at him or some other foolish notion. He shook his head sadly and passed me a wooden crate with a large S embedded into the lid of it. Later I’d come to find her news articles that she’d written and had pinned up in her house, as well as the journal that I now clutched like a life preserver. A few silver coin, nothing much. I tired to get more information and was left with nothing but the wind brushing up against the door, the boy having fled on foot to get away from my emotional state. I could hardly blame him.

I spent the night looking over her belongings. It felt like hours before I could ready myself to read her journal, I could not get rid of the feeling that I was intruding on her personal life. We had not been close for so many years, not since we were just children. It was more my fault then hers. I wished a higher (different?) education then she did and we had chosen different paths. Mine took me out side of Freeport and the home my parents had left to us. My arts were not something I spoke of often, though both of us took a ‘healing’ rout.. my sister did not approve at all, unfitting for a dark elf, she used to chide me. None of it mattered any more. I continued reading until my candle had burned down to the base of its holder, skipping to the last entry, my eyes widened. Wait…this..could it be? There was a chance. Perhaps there was hope.. or at least a way for me to confront my sisters killers if she was indeed dead. My mind swam with the notion that maybe I could still help some how. I decided then and there to head to Freeport, and learn of my sister what I could. I packed what little I owned and set out that night, leaving friends, family, and so much more behind. There was no need for them, they would not understand.

I was shaken roughly out of my half-dreaming state by the ship reaching shore, lurching about the deck I tried to once again get my feet beneath me, and eventually managed to make my way to Big Bend with little need for directions. My memory had served me well thus far at least. There would be no cozy inn room for me, I could hardly afford it. The only thought I’d had at all was to find my sister, I’d completely forgotten what it was like to be back in Freeport. The stench assaulted my nose and I tried not to gag. Ogres and trolls wandered past me and sniffed as though it were I who smelled bad. Once I’d secured a small one room bedroom to myself I spoke in hushed tones to the inn keeper, trying to find out some information, none of it was useful.

Skaga, a local vendor whom I remembered from previous years, yelled at me from across the way and I wandered over, unsure of what she wanted to tell me. She pulled me close and glanced around a moment before whispering her harsh breath into my ear, I tried not to shiver in distaste.

“If’ns you be lookin’s fer someones.. seek out the assassin..” she whispered. I stared at her a moment. Assassin? I’d known of no assassin. Granted this was Freeport and there were probably plenty about. I didn’t want to appear stupid by asking her, but I think my eyes said it all. “Leave words at East Freeport, the inn there.. they will be sure he gets the message,” she laughed at me and poked me in the chest as if to make her point, I practically fell backwards into the muck on the ground. I nodded and thanked her, and slipped a silver coin for her efforts into her pocket. She only grinned at me with her mouth half full of teeth. Not wanting to delay any longer I tore off a piece of parchment from the back of my sisters journal, dug a quill from my bags and impatiently wrote a letter, asking for help in locating my sister. I slipped it to the Inn Keeper in East Freeport, whispering that it was urgent that it found the Assassin, and gave another two silver to insure that it was actually delivered. I tried not to eye the already empty purse I carried, I would work that out another time. My hands did not stop shaking until I was back in my own room in Big Bend, there was nothing more that I could do this night without some sleep. So I curled up on the tiny hard cot and closed my eyes, trying to rest. Instead, all I got were dreams.

(( Told from the perspective of Ricotta, my little bardling who’s slowly working her way up in the world, hopfully insperation sticks around, and I’ll have pleanty more to write ))

When I gots up dis morning, the very first things I thoughts wus that I needed new armour. See, t’is not that my current armours is bad, nay t’is quite the opposite, t’is all shiny ‘n stuffs. But.. well.. t’is not exactly the bestest stuffs to go around singing of tales (or is that tails?) in Qeynos. The other bards would laughs at meh if they saws me singings in shiny armour that looked like tin, instead of their colourful ensambles. How would I, Ricotta Is’Gouda, stands out if I blended in with the stone pavement? I had heard that Ian, in Qeynos Harbour, was well prepared to pass out dis armour that I wanted dearly. For a price of course. His price at first seemed much too high fer meh. He wanted various odds and ends completed, skeletons squished who had been giving him some griefs apparently. I wondered why dis lad did not takes care of the issues himself, but did not voice the opinions for fear dat he would remove my request all together, and I would sing to Qeynos in tin for the rest of dis little Ratongas life. The first two tasks he had meh complete were fairly easy, even for dis tiny bardling. The pieces he gave me in return were vereh pretty! Baby blue’s dat matched the sky. Oh how I longed for a full outfit of dis! I managed to complete 4 of his tasks all together, and then my little paws grew weary, so I decided to breaks for da night.

Made my way slowly to Baubleshire, dis is where halflings and gnomes live. I think it was comforting to put myself here at first, to be with the smaller races. If I had gone to Greystone yard, a Barbarian would be sure to steps on my poor little feets I just knows it! What good is a bard if they can not also dance! So I danced for the customers in the bank, little squeeks of joy about the new armour I had gotten. The rest wills have to waits until tomorrow, I’ve just not the stamina of the larger peoples yet. In time I know it will come to me! I have been working on songs, and games fer people to laugh and sings about. Still though, I remember my days in Freeport, scrounging up foods in the muck of the sewers. Nightmares at times plague meh, buts I refuse to lets it gets meh down! Song in my heart is strong, and dis little Ratonga is ready soon fer more fun!