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SquirtGun

Event Actor
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About SquirtGun

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  1. Community Meeting

    Humans are currently the best crafters. You can have all skills two tiers higher than normal if you don't pick a main/secondary. You get 5% Exp on all professions. If you turn auto age on, you get an additional 10% Exp. You also Regen energy faster than any race. Basically, you can get 15% Bonus exp on Any and All skills you choose to level AND you craft more frequently than other races.
  2. "Do you see her hair?"

    "Wow, that's....that's...."

    "We call that 'brave' up here."

    "Brave indeed."

  3. A Questionable Sighting

    Miss Lily would look to the South from her balcony, her eyes resting upon the unkempt fields and the overgrowth claiming the burrows. She sighs softly as the memory of their time together fills her spirit.
  4. Your View: Techlock

    MArts already push the bill extremely far, and are often times ridiculous. I doubt technology of guns, explosives, cannons, etc. can be moderated properly when mArts have missed their mark thus far.
  5. Aww, ya makin me blush (*^_^)b
  6. Gonna keep posting what I find and edit into the main post, but THIS scares the **** out of me: How to make Barbed Arrows: To make 150 Barbed Arrows(2.5 Stacks) [The max you can make with 120 Energy recharging to full in 1 hour] Not only do you have to gather all the materials (which that time sink isn't included) but: You make 150 Ferrum arrowHEADS in 1 hour. Then you need to craft 37.5 times at 20 energy per 4 to make those Ferrum arrowHEADS into Barbed arrowHEADS This takes 750 Energy or 12.5 Hours Then you need to take those barbed arrowHEADS and turn them into Barbed Arrows which takes 150 Crafts at 5 energy per 1. This takes another 750 Energy or another 12.5 Hours Add the Ferrum Arrow Head time, the Barbed Arrow Head time, and the Barbed Arrow time together (STILL NOT INCLUDING TIME TO GATHER MATERIALS) 26 Hours of Crafting for 2.5 Stacks of Barbed Arrows This used to take me maybe 30-40 minutes. (These times are also based on being Legendary+ Anything lower and the time increases drastically.)
  7. For those long timers, this was nice. For short things, things you grind on, or those that leveled high enough to lower the cool down, we got wrecked. Some examples: You can only make 120 pieces of meat (less than 2 stacks) per hour. You can only make 120 pieces of tanned leather (less than 2 stacks) per hour. It now takes 90 Minutes to make 5 suits of leather armor from scratch. It now takes 3 hours to make 5 suits of Iron armor. It now takes 4.5 hours to make 5 suits of iron armor from scratch. You can only make 120 pieces of Netherwart block (less than 2 stacks) per hour. Edit More Scary Information: You can only make 3.3 Stacks of arrowHEADS per hour at Angelic Woodworker. It now takes 2 Hours to make 3.3 stacks of basic vanilla arrows. How to make Barbed Arrows: To make 150 Barbed Arrows(2.5 Stacks) [The max you can make with 120 Energy recharging to full in 1 hour] Not only do you have to gather all the materials (which that time sink isn't included) but: You make 150 Ferrum arrowHEADS in 1 hour. Then you need to craft 37.5 times at 20 energy per 4 to make those Ferrum arrowHEADS into Barbed arrowHEADS This takes 750 Energy or 12.5 Hours Then you need to take those barbed arrowHEADS and turn them into Barbed Arrows which takes 150 Crafts at 5 energy per 1. This takes another 750 Energy or another 12.5 Hours Add the Ferrum Arrow Head time, the Barbed Arrow Head time, and the Barbed Arrow time together (STILL NOT INCLUDING TIME TO GATHER MATERIALS) 26 Hours of Crafting for 2.5 Stacks of Barbed Arrows This used to take me maybe 30-40 minutes. (These times are also based on being Legendary+ Anything lower and the time increases drastically.)
  8. Bug: When you enchant a book it gives you a Book item that's enchanted with your enchant https://gyazo.com/ebfe14aefe5627149a201e148f11fb21 (can't be used to enchant) not an Enchanted Book item https://gyazo.com/bb254f1d1a932854cee089bc60a497e4 @Kowaman @Teegah
  9. [✗] Clerical Wards [Re-written]

    Dunno what you're trying to imply. We haven't used wards for months, nor did we ever simply negate magic.
  10. [✗] Clerical Wards [Re-written]

    Not interested in most of these types of wards as a cleric, leader of clerics, or nation leader. Quarantine is better off to just send a bird to an elder cleric and getting it cleaned up. The amount of reagents, time, and practice that a cleric would need to go through to set up such a ward to contain it is a bit asinine. By the time a cleric reaches tier 3 to be able to make a quarantine ward, they should be versed in purging such corruption as it's one of the easier and earlier things you teach, being down the healing path. If a cleric simply can't purge the land mass themselves, I doubt they could make a ward large enough to encompass it in the first place. Revelation doesn't solve the issue that basically alerts the spooks that there's a spook nearby. It's basically the old ward where they'd get burned but instead of trying to hide it with a grunt, now they have no ability to prevent it. In this case, it'd just be better to be a wall before them that they couldn't cross. Disarm. It's the same damn thing as Devirad. The same damn thing with Fi' mages. It isn't fun to entirely counter or negate someone's magic. It's not fun or enjoyable for us when in Devirad, it's not fun or enjoyable for them. And if you can only create a single ward, your not going to limit it to a random jail cell, or take the time and energy to create such a ward while your prisoner is standing there twiddling thumbs waiting for you. Crystals are obnoxious and pointless if you have it that close to the ward. What's the point of setting up a powerful ward when anyone can dismantle it by destroying the crystal thats right in front of you. Wards were meant to be true barriers against the corrupted; shields to hold off attacks and protect towns while reinforcements gathered. They're not that anymore, and it may be good that they never become like that again. But this, this is complicated and (like Divine Wardenism) while it looks good on paper, has little to no practical use in RP outside of Revelation. Which causes the same issues we previously had.
  11. The Dreamcatcher

    “Fine.” He grumbled. His arms were crossed and his mood sour. “Only because you asked me to, Princess.” His black locks floofed in the gentle breeze throughout the city square as he marched out of his tavern, pulling off his bartender’s apron and leaving it behind on the counter. His leather boots padded along the city streets as she watched him from the tavern door frame, resting her head upon it with a sigh. She felt a warmth run through her as she watched him walk. His broad shoulders, his heavy feet, and the gait in his step to show confidence to those around him. But as he stepped closer towards the tall armored figure, she saw his hand raise to the back of his neck. The slow scratching of his trimmed nails on his pale skin, just beneath his dark hair line. Her lips became thin as she watched, knowing the true emotions running through his mind and heart as he played the part of an actor for those around him once more. Doesn’t he ever grow tired of putting on a show? Doesn’t he ever wish to just be himself? She watched on as those around stared at the pair discussing their dislike for one another. It wasn’t unknown to the public. The armored Kha held some deep rooted dislike for the man, for reasons unknown. But, in an attempt to keep the peace, they were talking out their differences. His shoulders slumped slightly as he lowered his hand from his neck. She knew this wasn’t what he truly wanted. To go out and die in glorious combat, for honor! She sighed internally at the man’s resignation to give up on life so easily, wondering what little did he really have in life to make it so easy to just throw it all to the wind. She watched the man exchange his gloved hand to the armored figure. Peace. Forgiveness. She smiled slowly as she saw him take the other path, the one less traveled these days. Amidst war and violence, avoiding it was the higher road that few took. But his shout broke her from her bliss and brought her to reality. The armored figure pulling back a katar coated in crimson, staining the stone steps. People darted away in gasps as the Kha bounded away, leaving a trail of blood until the bridge’s railing, where they dived beneath the blue waters. Amidst all the screams and cries, she heard the thud so clearly of his knees hitting the stone beneath him as his lifeblood poured out of his torso. Her heels clattered on the ground as she hurried to him as he stared down at his red hands. He shuddered as his face turned ghostly white, a marvel for the already pale man. He began to lean backwards, falling to the cold stone floor as her hands gripped at his body, trying to get to the wound. Her hands began to glow with a golden light, the healing energy slipping from her fingertips and heading downwards towards the wound. But her light would flicker out, like a candle in the wind. Try and try again her light would illuminate, but only to fade just as fast. She looked towards his eyes as he shook and stammered, trying to speak. His lips moved, the words slipped from his tongue, but she was unable to hear them. With panicked eyes she looked at the crowd around them, standing there silently. She shouted for help, yet the faceless mob remained motionless. The blank look on their faces staring into her as if they weren’t there. She shook her head, trying to free herself from their gaze as she looked down at him. His eyes looked into hers with such emptiness, such longing. It’s as if there was so much in that moment, those last moments, that he wanted to share with her. But his stare slowly loosened as his head rolled back and his pupils dilated. The crowd vanished from around her and soon did the city. All that was left was his body and her hands holding him, constantly illuminating and fading time and time again. The only sound was her own voice….. “....I’ve got you…..I’ve got you…..I’ve got you…..” The room was dark as she gasped for air, bolting upright. A bright light illuminated the bedroom, followed by a thunderous roar outside. The shadows and shapes of the bedroom playing tricks on her mind as she woke. She ran a hand over her face, feeling the heat and sweat that clung to her. Her hair was matted and stuck to her body. She glanced to her right, seeing the mass next to her under the covers and the floof of black hair peeking out of the blankets. He was still here. Her legs bent towards her as she sat, wrapping her arms around her knees as she stared out the window. The rain was strong, unusually strong for this time of year. Her hands rubbed along her smooth legs, trying to calm herself. With another wipe of her face with the back of her hand, she moved her legs to the side of the bed. The azure blankets were warm, but the cold stone that touched her barefeet that would normally cause her to jolt was actually a welcome. It helped break her from her sleepy daze as she lifted herself from the bed and walked towards the shelf. The shadows danced across her bare body. The lightning sending them to their corners briefly as it flashed across the lake, only to return to lay claim to their territory during the dark nights. Her hands squeezed the cool cloth that sat in the basin and moved it to her face and neck. The cool water dripped down her skin, freeing it of the heat that held it prisoner. The images of the nightmare playing in her mind as she moved the cloth across her body. Strange. She thought to herself in the silence of the night. We can never remember the dreams we want to remember, but are haunted by those we wish we could forget. She lowered herself into the chair by the basin and ran the cloth over her thigh and down her calf. Her eyes closed, hoping to hide the images in her mind and give way to the darkness beneath her lids as she focused on the coolness of the cloth. The relief was only temporary, this she knew. She had hoped with his return, the nightmares would cease. But now that he was home, now that he was hers once more, they seemed to only increase in their occurrence. The fear of losing him once more, it plagued her like an incurable disease that slowly ate away at her mind. She placed the cloth in the basin and opened her eyes as she sat in the chair and looked upon his sleeping form. She held her fears back from him the best she could. She knew what he told her was only a portion of the hell he went through to return to her, leaving out the most fearful parts in an effort to shield her. She knew that he was readjusting to the life he once had, trying to find strands of the life he had left behind before that fateful journey that would keep him from her for so long. Those strands were few these days…and she saw the struggle in his eyes. It harkened back to her nightmare. His confident walk, his smile, his courage. What everyone saw in him, no. What he left everyone see. And what she saw. What he allowed her to see. She stood slowly and looked in the mirror as lightning illuminated her visage. Her hand moved the bits of hair from her face, tucking them behind her ears in an attempt to hide the fears that gripped her before moving back to the bed. Her slim legs slid under the blankets, the azure fabric rubbing against her peach skin as she settled in bed and laid upon her side with a soft sigh. “You alright?” The voice behind her was deep and calm. The gravelly texture to it of someone just waking up was missing. He had been awake with her all along. “Yes...just needed some water.” Her ethereal voice replied to his. Their conversation something so delicate that the thunderstorm bowed with respect to it, slowly parting and giving way, allowing the moonlight to filter through their bedroom window and cascade over the two. The bed shifted and the blankets became looser before she felt his calloused fingertips slide over her bare back and take hold of her shoulder. His grip was strong and firm, yet tender at the same moment. “Another nightmare?” She sighed heavily. She didn’t understand why she tried to shield him from the truth. The way she saw through his facade, he saw through hers. They were too much alike, both trying to protect the other. She swallowed the lump in her throat as a tear slipped down her nose and onto the pillow below her. His hand slipped down the length of her arm, dragging his neatly trimmed nails along her skin. Her skin shivered slightly, raising upwards into little bumps as his arm crossed in front of her. The moonlight shined over them, illuminating the muscles in his forearm that now acted as a guardian to the darkness and nightmares. The fine silver hairs on his pale skin shining in the moonlight as he pulled her back against his bare chest. He sighed heavily, placing his head against the soft brown locks that comforted him. The space between them, non-existent as they truly were one being in this moment. She closed her eyes as his lips touched her ear softly as he spoke.... “.....I’ve got you…..”
  12. [Shortlisted]Back where I belong [AT App]

    Back where you belong, so you're making a halfling again? Good guy, as hard a worker as myself. Be dumb not to take him.
  13. Recuitment of the Batavia Garde

    "...What?" Lily would ask, entirely confused.
  14. The North's frigid breath swept over the mountaintops as the sun sank below the horizon. The nooting of penguins and the cries of the yetis in the distance began to grow faint as slumber dragged them into their shelters for the night. The only sound that broke through the serene silence was that of a pair of boots trudging through the deep snow. With each crunching step, the white landscape was further marred with a trail leading from the verdant forest. Hot breath danced in the air, free from the small confines, only to be gripped by the arctic chill. A small leather satchel of belongings rubbed against the thick coat with each movement, causing strain and exhaustion. A moleskin bag pressed against a chest with the flap loosely closed, arms gripping it tightly. Sweat, even in the frigid temperatures, dripped down the peach skin, soaking through the clothing and pooling in the confines of the boots. A large polar bear awakens from its slumber as the steps pass a cave. It rises up, moving in front of its youth and stands on its rear legs, attempting to intimidate the intruder. But the bear looked upon the intruder and the intruder looked upon the bear. A mutual understanding occurred, something that transcends speech and species. The bear lowered itself and, with a huff, returned to slumber with its child. The young bear made a playful noise in its sleep, possibly dreaming of catching its first fish, while the intruder continued its steps past the cave. Exhaustion began to take its toll. The gait of each step became shorter and the movements slower. Was it the wind howling just now? Or was it the tundra wolves that preyed upon the oxen and reindeer? The arms that held the moleskin bag tightened around it as the bag began to shake and squirm. Pausing in its travels, an arm freed itself from its grip and lifted the flap of the moleskin bag for a moment before lowering it once more. Eyes scanned from left to right before the steps continued, now diverting from the straight path it once took Northward. The rocky outcrop shielded against the bitter winds. The leather satchel was slipped off, sinking into the snow with a rustle as the contents shifted and stirred. The shaking moleskin bag was removed and place, with gentle movements, against the rocks. Small hands removed the thick fur coat, revealing the sweat drenched body to the icy air, sending a shiver throughout the body. But the hands laid the coat over the moleskin bag then fished around within the leather satchel. Swift movements with flint and steel would soon create a small fire, the heat beating the cold in its duel (for the moment). The drenched clothes were soon stripped off and hung on the rocks to dry. The dancing light of the flame on the sweaty form gave such a luster that one might think it was a coating of aurum dust. With tired motions, the hands rubbed against one another and the fingers flexed, attempting to awaken the hibernating nerves and tendons beneath the peach skin. But a noise from behind demanded attention, and a shuffle within the moleskin bag would not take no for an answer. It squirmed in the air as it's eyes blinked and squinted to the fire's light. The wisps of hair, as silver as moonlight, decorating the crown of its head poked in all directions. The soft pink lips parted as its tiny feet and hands balled up, and a cry echoed out. The infant squirmed in the careful hands as they freed it from the confines of the moleskin bag and moved it towards their owners breast. The careful hands became careful arms that cradled the child and moved the long brown hair out of the way. Soon the sharp cries of hunger were replaced with soft breaths through a small nose. She looked upon the infant, running a delicate finger over its soft head. "Soon....we'll find him soon." Her own stomach rumbled and she moved a hand to the leather satchel. Her search retrieved only a few bits of salted mutton and raw nuts. She began to divvy up the, already small, remaining rations for herself. Her stomach attempted to revolt against her mind as it thought of skipping another meal on this journey, growling and twisting inside of her. She looked upon the feasting infant and then to the hand that cradled him. The amber ring that sat upon her finger sparkled in the fire's light. Trust. With a deep sigh, she brought the food to her lips and began to eat the rations, a move that appeased her stomach but wounded her heart. She knew that this meant that her search had come to an end, for this trip at least. Without food, she'd need to head home and resupply before venturing out once more. She pulled the thick coat over the both of them as she looked down at the sleeping child's face. As she closed her eyes, the child's face shifted into his and a smile splayed across her chapped lips. She trusted him, and she rested for the journey home. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The warm wind blew across the city with a gentle touch, lifting her hair and dress slightly. She stood upon the balcony of the palace, looking over at her creation below her. But instead of eyeing the populace and the festivities, her eyes were fixated on the gate as men and women in ocean blues and lustrous golds and silvers returned home. "Princess..." The voice called out to her from the staircase of the royal quarters as the guard captain scaled the marble stairs to the balcony. "I know......I see them." His footsteps were heavy, the metal boots making a racket against the clean stone, as he began to pull off his gloves. His eyes looked over the bedroom, noticing that things that once brought her enjoyment now lay in corners, covered in a thick layer of dust. The tray of food that sat on the desk had barely been touched while a second serving sat next to hers, waiting for its intended diner to arrive eventually. The goose-down bedding was crumpled and creased on one side, marking the long sleepless nights. While the other side of the bed remained pristine, much like the second plate, waiting for its occupant to return. He looked from the desk of quills and parchment that she furiously wrote and had sent out, the notices of potential rewards, the cries for any information, and the pleas for help. "The gulls we sent out......they haven't been returned either." He sat his gloves next to a stack of letters addressed to various settlements across Axios, knowing that the same letter would be in each one, the same letter that she's sent out all this time. "The winds must be delaying them." She replied as she remain focused on the gate. "Have the stewards train them better and these letters will reach him." With a sigh he stepped behind her and laid his calloused hand on her shoulder silently. "You're to ride the guard to the manor in the South-West." His brow furrowed as he looked at her cheek. "The guard has only just returned and we only just checked that place a fortnight ago." "He might be there now." She stated, her voice tired and strained as if she tried to make herself believe her own words. "I saw him there once with Oliver....perhaps he heard about the news and went there to-" His hand squeezed her shoulder, silencing her. He looked at his hand. Had her shoulder always been so thin? Had her skin always been so rough and dry? Had her clothing always sat on her so loosely? "Lily...." His voice softening as he tried to approach the subject. "You know that you are like family to me. And you know that I want the best for you...." He looked upon her vacant expression as her eyes still clung to the gate in the distance and braced himself for what was to come. "But....it has been so long.....maybe it is time to move on....he wouldn't want you to be like this." His words hung in the air as he stared at her. Was it regret that washed over him not for what he had said? Did he wish he was able to grab at the words and pull them away from her ears to spare her the pain? Or was this feeling of relief? To have finally said what he had wished to say many moons ago? Regardless of his feelings, she remained quiet. Her eyes blinked slowly as they watched the gate and lowered towards her hand. There, the amber ring sat upon her finger and shined in the afternoon sunshine. Hope. She lowered her hand to the balcony railing and slowly turned to the captain, acknowledging him finally. He looked past her cracked lips and circles under her eyes. Instead, he looked into her eyes and saw in that moment what others couldn't understand, what others may never come to understand. "I believe...." She'd begin in her soft and tired voice. "....that your horse is waiting." Without a sigh, without resignation, and without fault, he removed his hand from her shoulder. He nodded and picked up his gloves from the desk, along with the letters. He placed his helmet upon his head and rushed to rally his men. A thunderous wave of hooves beating on stone echoed from the city as men and women in ocean blues and lustrous silvers and golds rode to the South-West while gulls flew from the stewards quarters with letters and scrolls to places across the realm. As the captain rode through the thick forest, he worried no longer about his Princess. For she was not lost in misery, but safely home with hope. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- He adjusted his glasses as he walked through the city streets. His ears twitched as whispers slipped from the mouths of those he stewarded. “They say she’s a black widow.” “Some say she’s cursed.” “Other’s say they run from her and fake their death.” “Think she’ll accept this one?” “How long will this one last?” A scowl formed on the elf’s face as he lifted his long robes from dragging upon the stone. The minds of the unenlightened, he thought with a disgusting taste in his mouth. Passing the tall buildings with each step, the smell of spices and sweets reached his nose. Following the aroma, he arrived at the source. Large carts and wagons of fresh fruits, sweetened breads, and spices sat outside the palace gates. Their banners were foreign and their drivers all wore a similar uniform. The slender steward wormed his way through the crowd made of curious citizens, feisty merchants, and merry bards that circled the palace. “What’s going on?” His voice was disgruntled as he fixed his askewed glasses. “Another one.” The steward would sigh heavily as he made his way past the guard and headed into the palace. His mood didn’t change much once within the confines of the palace he once was proud to say he had built. Now, it had begun to fall apart and become overgrown. Vines and cobwebs seemed to expand outwards, fighting each other in some territorial war of dominance. Who would own the left gargoyle? The spiders or the weeds? Numerous holes in the roof of the reception hall allowed a constant dripping to echo throughout the room, potentially causing one to go mad if held there long enough. But his attempts to fix the room were thwarted. “It’s how he left it, he liked a bit of nature.” She rarely left the palace those days unless to do her basic duties for the city or to go out on one of her trips to search for him. “Yes, but Princess….” His arms would expand outward. “This is more than a BIT of nature!” His complaints and claims fell on deaf ears as she stared at his picture. He felt her sorrow, unable to aid her through mundane or magical means. She was his princess, but also his teacher. She had taught him how to mend broken bones cure toxins, but never how to heal a broken heart. His stroll down memory lane was interrupted as a deep voice boomed from the reception hall. A man of tan color and dark hair stood before the throne of diamonds and tidestone, bearing numerous caskets of jewels and precious metals. “I have heard of your beauty. I have heard of your kindness. And I have heard of your love for wealth, something we share in common, my princess!” The foreign man laughed as he rubbed his large stomach following his claims. With a strained neck, the steward looked around the man and saw the princess seated on the throne. Her look seemed blank, expressionless, and empty. Yet the man seemed to believe his attempt to win her heart infallible. “That is kind of you, sir.” She’d reply in an exhausted tone. The steward righted himself up and fixed his robes. He slicked back his hair and straightened his glasses. With a deep clearing of his throat, he marched his way into the room. He emanated confidence and prestige, when internally he was quite timid and fearful. With a bowed head he approached the tidestone throne. “My Princess.” She acknowledged his presence with a nod and the steward took his place next to her. “My Minister of the Interior.” She stated to the foreigner as she introduced the nervous steward. “Aha! What a fine man to build such a fine city!” The foreign man slapped his stomach as much as he laughed. “Yes, fine indeed. Especially this hall, no?” The foreigner’s laughter paused as he looked around at the weathered hall, his voice becoming strained. “Yes….it is….lovely...but!” He smiled once more as he looked upon her. “With me at your side, I can have this mess fixed up quickly!” Her movements were slow, yet sharp. Standing in front of the throne, the steward was able to look at her without feeling sheepish. Her presence was once magnificent, as if a glow exuded from her, a sense of timeless beauty and confidence. But now he could see that she wasn’t herself, and each passing day her form became worse. He wished he had forced more food upon her or been more adamant about tailoring her dresses more. Once the richest person across the realm, she now appeared as a beggar queen. He quickly looked to her eyes, blushing as he thought she was looking at him stare. But her eyes were transfixed upon her hand where a single amber ring sat. The torchlight of the room caused the ring to twinkle. Loyalty. “It is not a mess.” She replied to the foreigner as she stepped down from the dais. “And I do not need a man by my side other than he.” The man laughed slightly as he tried to maintain his composure and smile. “My Princess, it is known that he has gone. Fled, dead, or something of the sort! You hold onto memories and words as if they were flesh and blood!” He moved to his knee and took from his person a box that held within it a ring with a beautiful diamond upon it. “Allow me to heal your wounds, my princess. We can rule together and you will be wealthy and pleased!” The steward blinked as he looked at the size of the diamond. Carefully he watched her eyes as she moved her hand towards the engagement ring, confused at what would come from this. But as the princess’ hand reached the box, she simply closed its lid and let her hand that held her small amber ring sit upon the top. “Safe travels home, sir.” His stomach rumbled slightly as he stood by the princess on her balcony, watching the carts full of sweets and savory food leave. “Didn’t find his company appealing, my princess?” Her eyes fixated on the gate as the last cart left the city. The sun began to set upon the city and its residents began to head home for the evening. “He would wait for me.” He couldn’t argue the point, the bond they had shared was known throughout the city and elsewhere. But it wasn’t until he stood there on that balcony with her that night, staring into the setting sun, did he realize how loyal an individual could be. Even when not teaching him, she somehow managed to do so. And in an attempt to prove his own loyalty, he left her side and gathered numerous torches, candles, and glowing stones of various sizes and colors. Through the night he worked, but when he work was complete, he had lit a path home for him to follow. All he could do now, was pray that the Light would guide him home to the most loyal of them all. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “You remind me of him.” The dark elf blinked suddenly, looking from the tome that he read at the table and looked upon her. “I’m….I’m sorry?” Her hair began to lose its color, her silver roots peeking through the once dyed brown hair. Sores began to appear around her joints and she tired easily. He had wanted her to cleanse the sword he found that day, but after seeing the toll it took upon her already weak form, he wished he had looked for a different way. “He is always so invested in what he does...he either goes fully into something, disregarding all caution, or doesn’t. There is no middle ground.” Her words were soft and strained, her lips crimson. Many knew she was sick, few knew how severe. She refused to take medicine or allow herself to be healed. She knew what was causing it, and she knew what would come soon if she did not allow herself to recover. “Princess….” He sighed, knowing that if he tried to correct her tense usage it would only upset her more. She talked about him all the time, as if he was just running an errand and would be home soon. How many moons had it been since anyone had last seen him? After some point, many just stop counting and assumed the worst. “Walk with me.” He stood from the chair and closed his book before moving to her side and taking the sleeping infant that sat in his carrier from her. He passed her the staff that had now become more of a cane than anything as of late, and the two of them walked off. “Here we are…” They stopped at the top of the stairs between the library and palace. His eyes looked around, confused. “What….?” “This is where I first met him.” “Oh…” She closed her eyes and inhaled slowly, relishing in the memory. “He came rushing over to us from the grove, seeking aid for someone choking. His mannerisms and exaggerated movements….even though a serious moment, they made me want to laugh.” He smiled at the words, remembering such antics being a common place with him. After a few moments, she opened her eyes and began to walk once more until stopping in the city square. “Here….is where I healed him after being assaulted by a crazed Kha.” She looked down at the stone with narrowed eyes, as if remembering the exact place he lay. “He was so bloody, the katar the Kha used had sliced his internal organs. People just stood there and offered no help.” He scowled as he adjusted the infant upon his back. “A reason why I seek the Light, to be able to do when others do not.” She nodded her approval and remained still for a moment before stepping forward. Only a handful of yards away upon a stairway she paused. “Another spot?” “Yes….his chest and side had been slashed up. By sword or claw, I never knew. But seeing him in pain, something within me knew that I had to be the one to bring him comfort when no one else could.” Their travels continued, and while he thought that the time could be better spent at solving the mystery surrounding the shadow blade, he followed along silently. The green of the forest wrapped around them as they looked up at the ruined elder tree. “He spent much time here.” “He always had a thing for Druids. He would always be around Nyn and the others.” “It was here that I blessed his weapon, and here where he helped me ward their tree. It was here that….” She’d pause and look to the sleeping child on his back and allow the rare smile to lay across her cracked lips. “It was here that I realized how much he meant to me.” He looked at her with a sense of understanding, yet her gaze was fixed on the amber ring that sat on her hand. The moonlight seemed to strike it in such a way that caused it to sparkle. Love. “We should be getting back, my princess, the hour grows late.” She nodded and began to follow him home, but stopped to look behind her once more before heading off. As they returned to the palace they climbed the tall stairs to the royal quarters. The bedroom had only fallen into further disarray in the recent days, yet no one tried to fix it. After laying the child in its crib she helped her into her bed, slowly moving the blankets and fixing her pillows. Her coughing began once more and the white cloth she used to cover her mouth became speckled with crimson. She sipped the water he offered her slowly and leaned back against the pillows to close her eyes. “And this is where I thought I lost him forever. And also where he came back to me.” Her words became soft as her breathing slowed, falling into a soft slumber. He stayed by her bedside, understanding why she refused to change anything, understanding why she refused to leave, and understanding why she refused to move on. He understood what love truly was in the dark hours that night by the bedside of his princess, witnessing it first hand. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The darkness of her bedroom washed over her belongings. Like a spectre of death, silent and deadly, it crept from the shadows that hid in the corners. It slipped over her books and journals, over her jewelry and dresses, over her paintings and portraits. It slithered up the bed posts and onto the blue bed spread hoping to assault the unguarded princess. But as the shadows of the dark room attempted to swallow her in this hour, the amber ring shined brightly. No simple sparkle or twinkle, but a brilliant amber light shined against the darkness, forcing the shadows away as if he was there protecting her in her time of need. For she was never truly without him, but now he was headed home. Trust. Hope. Loyalty. Love.