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!

Level 17 Dirge / 20 Jeweler, and making my way through Norrath’s wonders. One of many alts, and hopfully one of many posts. I’ve been reading people’s blogs for quite some time now, and decided to make one of my own, we’ll just have to see how it goes. Ricotta is of course a ratonga, with quite a cute name if I do say so myself.