Chaotic Blessings by Firechan

It smelled faintly of rotten eggs and spinach. She held one finger out and bravely poked it. The blob jiggled. The blob wiggled. The blob seemed to look back at her as her mahogany eyes impassively observed it. It then burped, or rather a bubble inside of it exploded before the ball of slime tilted to one side and proceeded to drain off the edge of her worktable.

Valiencia let out a long and heavy sigh. This was not working well. This was her fourth attempt and it was not even noon. She was attempting to re-create Poshi--the unfathomly hungry Vanilmirth she had made by accident. Poshi had been a creature of glory and...squishiness. He had escaped within a day of creation but she had found him several days later after trekking through the wilds. Poshi had gone feral and joined the wild poring population near Payon.

This time she was following the lessons given to her by Pappa. He'd supposedly snuck into the research lab of some city with a name she couldn't pronounce but sounded like some sort of waffle. However, the items that she had been given from the Alchemist guild didn't seem to work as well as the ones she had used previously.

Valiencia pulled out her old journal and dusted it off. She smiled a little as she looked at the scrawling writing down the side, "the misadventurer valiencia." She'd always had a knack for words. The young woman sat down and thumbed through the pages.

Almost at once she let out a soft laugh; how long had it been since she had accidentally caused an outbreak of green hair among the locals with her poring candies? Well at least they had tasted good. Though the peco that she'd slipped one to was still a faint shade of olive.

"Oh my!" she squeaked as she hurried over to save what was left of her last attempt. It found a new home in the metal trashcan that was often used to house glowing or half dissolved matter from her experiments.

The girl could only stare in blank amazement as it began to wear through the metal as well. This was near exactly what had happened when she made her last homunculus! Or close enough; she quickly ran to her old journal again with the metal can in one hand. The entry appeared under her fingers as if by magic—it was rather awkward to flip through a book and contain the slimeball after all.

Her childish script spelled out the ingredients in painfully messy writing: 4 cups of zeny, 5 sticky mucus, 2 coal, 1 morning star, and 3 poring cookies. Dear Ymir, did she still even have any of those cookies? The ooze let off another burp. It was most defiantly a burp because she knew it was at least half sentient by this point.

Valiencia nearly tripped over discarded potion bottles and test tubes as she made her way to an old pencil case. She flipped it over with her free hand and two and a half green blobs with smiling faces scattered across the desk it had been setting on. This would have to work. The coal and mucus was easy enough since she always had such things on hand. She quickly tossed those ingredients in the bucket which proceeded to make a noise akin to the screeching of an obeaune.

The bucket was not going to contain it much longer. The girl made a disgruntled noise as she plopped the bucket into an old cardboard box which immediately began to give off sticky black smoke. Two and a half cookies would have to do and as they met with the foul smelling blob it gave off a sound that could only be recognized as a sign of contentment.

In a far corner of the room, near the door, sat Valiencia’s cart. She knew she had at least one pokey mace in there somewhere. Ah-ha! She snatched the unwieldy morning star from the back end of the cart and pitched it into the cardboard box. A loud hiss issued from its contents. She nearly laughed at that response, at least it was responding to outside stimuli well. All that was left was the zeny. She sighed and reached into the cart again. As she rummaged through it her fingers became stained by several blue herbs but that was okay. The air filled with a sharp medicinal smell from their bruised tissue. However, the young alchemist did not mind it.

She threw her money pouch in; she assumed it was around the same measurement as she had put in last time. It felt the same at least. The box stopped hissing and smoking for a moment before another loud screech came from its contents. Within an instant a round ball of slime bounced out of it and began to ooze on her booted foot. Valiencia let out a soft laugh and reached her herb-stained hands down to stroke the oozing creature.

“I shall name you Pom-pom,” she smiled down at the little creature who’s eyes wiggled in silent response. This firm statement was followed by a yelp as her foot began to heat up. The little idgjit had set fire to her boot!

“Pom-pom the Destroyer..” she muttered in an irritated tone before she poked her head out the door. “Pappa! I made another one!” The only response to be heard was a long and drawn out sigh from downstairs.

The Light of Mediocrity by Tull

 Jack was the youngest of his family, a clan destined for service as adventurers under King Tristam - his father, the great knight Ashenfellr made certain of that. Ashenfellr was always talking about hunting the elusive Jobgun, a vicious three-headed lizard that plagued merchant caravans going between Prontera and Morroc, and Ashenfellr was determined that his family would have the honor of defeating it in the name of Rune Midgard. 

 However, Jack - the smallest - was completely unlike his siblings.  His oldest brother followed his father's footsteps into Knighthood.  The middle brother, always the brainy one, left for Geffen to join the wizard academy.  His sister, the tallest and strongest of them all, left in the same caravan to join the Blacksmith guild in Geffen. 

 Then the day came for Jack to leave his father's hall.  Not knowing what to do with himself, he went to his siblings.  His eldest brother in Prontera told him, "You're strong, Jack, but you're not strong enough to be a knight. Surely something else would suit you better".  His middle brother in Geffen told him, "You're not stupid, Jack, but being a mage requires absolute control of your mind and a lot of memorization.  I would find something you're more naturally inclined to".  While in Geffen, he finally went to his sister hammering away in the Blacksmith guild.  "Jack", she said, "You've always been capable, but you need finely honed skill backed up by the muscle to shape steel.  I don't think you have the physical capability nor the mind for salesmanship necessary to make and use these weapons.  Whatever you do decide to do, come back here to buy your equipment!"

In a slump, Jack began wandering north, eventually winding up in Al de Baran.

 Two years later, Ashenfellr's three eldest children had a plan hatched to impress their father.  Their sister, while on a trip to Morroc to buy gems, was forced further north than normal due to a sandstorm, and came across a foul-smelling cave.  Peeking in, she saw sleeping what could only be the Jobgun, and had immediately dispatched a raggler to notify her brothers in Prontera and Geffen.  They gathered in Morroc, and speaking in the pub, decided their father was too old to fight the Jobgun - they would face it themselves and make him proud.

 After two days of preparation they set out, retraced the path to the cave, and confronted the beast.  Spells, hammer and sword crashed for several furious minutes, and the eldest three children of Ashenfellr discovered the Jobgun was more fierce and terrible than they had imagined.  As things began to fall apart and his sister scrambled for flywings in her cart, Jack finally got up the courage to leave hiding at the mouth of the cave and join the fight. 

 He knew the Jobgun's blue head was strong against magic but had thin skin, and his middle brother was furiously casting Jupitel Thunder to no avail while barely keeping out of the snapping jaws.  Jack sprung forward, revealing a stiletto that smelled faintly of ants, and it flashed repeatedly against the slavering head.  Finally he got it caught between the monster's teeth, holding the mouth open.  His eldest brother was roaring, bringing his claymore down in vicious arcs against the Jobgun's red head, which Jack had read was weak to magic but had a very thick skull.  Firebolts began to appear, and the Jobgun winced and looked away from his brother for a moment.  His sister was facing the Gold head, which spat fire at her and kept moving in broad circles, keeping her out of hammer range.  With massive strength but no ranged weapons she was in bad shape, now leaning on her axe haft.  She felt a mist about her and the fiery onslaught stopped:  There were no acolytes nearby, but she was certainly surrounded by the aura of Pneuma. 

And there stood Jack, a merchant's cart behind him, casting arcane spells at one head, keeping another at bay, and directing mediocre healing spells at all his wounded brethren.

 He was swept away by the monster's tail, but his siblings had the moment they needed.  His brothers pinwheeled around each other, switching heads, while his sister caught up to her distracted opponent. 

 When the beast fell and they caught their breath, his brothers turned on him as he picked himself up out of the dirt.  "Where have you been these past two years!?", they demanded.  "And what have you become?"  Suddenly embarrassed, Jack fled before his sister could stop him.

 They say to this day, his siblings still haven't heard from Jack.  But if ever a little help is needed with everything all at once, there's a little house in Al de Baran from where Jack will sally forth to help, serving Rune Midgarts in his own way.

The Sad Dance of the Wisdom by Hoshi Astraea

The story I’m going to tell happened some time ago…

She was a dancer, performing for an archer, soon to be bard.
A rogue who had just gotten back from the Schwarzwald Republic, told them about her last adventure. The heart of the dancer leapt as she heard about a scholar with silver hair that fought proudly with spells.
Later, she asked herself if the way of the show was right for her or if it was better to follow the scholar's example.

One day the archer talked about their future together, it was clear that he was in love... but it seemed that the dancer’s mind was always somewhere else.
Maybe what she felt for the scholar wasn't love but just admiration, anyway she understood that dancing wasn’t for her.
She couldn't live anymore in that way, that scholar was her obsession, and she had to end this torment.
"The Death" she thought... "A death for love..."
If only would it be possible to reborn and change everything...

Since the ancient ages the goddess Freya protected love, so the dancer headed to the temple in Rachel to finish her life.
She wrote a letter for her friend , and when she arrived she asked the priestess Nemma to pray for her.

The Wind blew under silver moon as the dagger was pointed at her heart.

For a moment in the dancer's mind appeared the face of the Scholar as she imagined him, then her heart began to fell light as small drops of red blood fell to the ground as later her body did.
Now she didn’t suffer anymore…

“Wake up!” cried Nemma.
The girl opened her ruby eyes; she was still alive.
Freya listened to her prayers, her body wasn’t jewel adorned anymore and her veil waved from a tree, now she wore novice's clothes with a new life in front of her.

One day someone knocked at the archer's door; in front of his eyes appeared a girl wearing a beige dress and carrying a tome; a dagger of counter was slipped in her belt.
His eyes opened wide and he mumbled the dancer's name.
“Yes, but I couldn’t dance for you anymore… the way of wisdom has now touched my heart” she replied. “Damned Scholar” thought the archer, he didn’t know how it happened but now his dancer was a sage.
He got depressed and fled far away.

That was the way she chose, even if maybe she would never meet that scholar, thinking of him was enough to keep going on.

Time passed…
It was a day like the others and the sage was in Morroc desert, hunting ingredients for elemental converters, while she heard a whistle and raised her eyes to the sky. A falcon was flying above her and among the dunes appeared a boy carrying a bow; it was her archer friend, now hunter.
Surprised, she asked an explanation and he said to her that there was nothing else he could do. He could never sing or play for another dancer because he still felt something for her.
She wanted to beg for his forgiveness, but in that moment a howl was heard.
“Desert Wolves!!!” cried the girl. He thought that maybe if he was able to defend her, she could fall in love with him.

He pushed back the sage making her fall, and shot an arrow at the monster leading the pack.
With a lot of dexterity to hit, but not agile enough to dodge, the other wolves were soon on him.
The sage stood up quickly, while the monsters were tearing the flesh of the boy.
“Cold Bolt” she cried loudly, as ice darts hit the wolves, “Cold Bolt”… but the hot sand was already stained of a vivid red… that day the desert got its revenge on the man.

…

A stalker watched a female scholar praying on a tomb in the desert as every day before, that was the only thing she could do to soothe her soul, she continued to suffer for loving a person that maybe was only in her mind and for the loss of a dear friend that loved her.
The woman put a veil on the tomb, then left crying. The stalker thought that one day she would dance in heaven for the man buried here.

Walking in the desert, even now, maybe you can notice some pieces of fabric tied to a stone, that’s the place where a sad love rests…

The Legend of Ymir by Cream

Let me tell you a story young adventurer. The story i am about to tell you is of a lost knowledge that most have forgotten. It is the legend of the great Ymir and his heart.
?A little over 1000 years ago we were at war with the gods and the demons. This war finally ended in a truce between the three parties. Then there was a 1000 years of peace, but now the flames of war have been rekindled. The one whom has been said to be keeping the peace was Ymir. Ymir is said to have formed the world we live in today. Many say Ymir's spirit protected the peace up until recent years.
?First young adventurer let me explain to you who Ymir was said to be. Ymir was born in Niflheim. He was the first of a race of mighty giants. Soon after Ymir was born his new race started to multiply. The giants grew larger in population but this made the gods angry, particularly Odin. Odin became so furious he killed Ymir. In doing so. Odin and the other God's used Ymir's corpse to create the earth and everything on it.
?Now once again because of the corruption and greed of living beings we seem to be entering another thousand year war. I'm sure in your adventuers you've come across something known as Ymir's Heart? It contains great power and is said to be the key to saving the world. Ymir's heart is being used all around the world to power different things. As you know The city of juno is built upon these. With power like that one could do many great things or many evil things. I spent most of my life searching for one of these pieces but I am now too tired to go on anymore. So I am passing my knowledge onto you young adventurer in hopes that you will find one of these pieces and do great things for the world. Maybe the birthplace of Ymir, Niflheim holds a hint to finding yourself a piece. I was never strong enough to visit Niflheim so I was never able to seach there. Anyway, Thank you young adventuer for listening to my story.

Prontera's a pretty big city, it towers over you as you walk it's streets, it can be frightening, it can be foreboding. Jack McGuiness knew that Prontera was a tough city, that's why he moved there.  The city was tough, but he was tougher. He wore the mark of his trade, a red fur coat; he was a rogue and no matter how tough the city makes people, he'll always find a sucker. He sits on his perch, a barrel in an alleyway in Southern Prontera, and waits.

Is this person weak enough? Nah, too much effort...

Is this one rich enough? Nope, can't even afford a good hat...

            Bah, he thinks to himself, the pickin's are a slim today... Just as he was about to retire to a bar for the evening he spots her. She was obviously a priestess, the cloths and that stupid innocent expression gave her away. Her hair was held back by small ribbons and a pretty large money sack hung from her hip. Finally! He thinks to himself, this one looks good. He follows her until she enters an abandoned alleyway, now's my chance.

            He closes the distance with quick, silent steps...the zeny bag was only a few inches away...

            Suddenly, the priestess wheels around. Crap, he thinks to himself, she caught me! He stops in mid stride, frozen by her eyes. Something was wrong, her eyes, they looked like a poring when it knows it's about to be popped; fear...that's what it was, but why did he feel that it wasn't him that she was afraid of? He looks past her, and the reason became clear...Smiths. Smiths? What are they doing here? This isn't their part of town...

            “Hello Jen,” said one of the Smiths,” it looks like we found you.”

            “You're a pretty hard person to catch,” said another.

            “We're sorry,” said a third,” but you have to come with us.”

            “Never!” said Jen, “They have the right to know, the right to know the truth about their lives.”

           What truth? What the hell did I get myself into? thought Jack. These aren't regular Smiths...something is off, like a wolf in sheep's clothing.

            “and by the way,” Jen hissed at the Smiths, “your disguises are worthless.”

            “Heh, fine...if you really insist,” said the first Smith.

            There was a flash of light, blinding Jack for a moment. When his eye's returned to him, the Smiths were dressed in white, they weren't really Smiths, what the hell are they? They gave off the very essence of power...

            “Now Jen,” said the first “Smith”,” I'm sorry to say, you die here.”

            The ground erupted into explosions around Jack and Jen; Jack backslid out, but Jen was caught in the inferno. Jack hid and crawled back to see what was happening...

            “It's a pity, Jen,” said the “Smith” as he stands over Jen,” you could have lived in ignorant bliss...”

            “Heh, you idiot,” Jen struggles,” they will find out about the servers..and...y...your....illusion will.........”

            Jack runs away, it's all he can do, the men in white were too powerful for him. But what was she talking about at the end......servers?

The Light of Dawn by Sera

They say that the night is darkest at the moment before dawn. I wouldn't really know though. I have never seen the sun. I feel like I should know what the looks like, I know the word, and I know what the sun is. There are holes in my mind... so many things I have lost, lost to this darkness that surrounds me.

I walk through my room, a room made of shadows and gauzy threads. No light shines through the windows, once clear, now covered in dust. There is a photograph by my bed on the bed stand beside my hairbrush. I do not know the person beside me in the photograph, it is a memory lost to me... but I know they were someone special. The person’s face is strange to me, but my heart always tightens when I see our smiles. I usually keep that photograph lying down, out of my view, so I don't have to try to keep the tears inside.

I pick up my brush and slowly brush my hair, long black silky hair. I love my hair, brushing it and feeling it is the only thing that I have to keep myself comforted. I cherish the feeling of it slipping between my fingers like water from a cool stream. My fingers... they are white. They have never seen the sun either.

I set down my brush beside the picture frame; I am feeling strong today, so the two faces are smiling at me. I try to smile like the girl I know is me, but it seems to break my heart just to try.

"I'll only be gone for a while..." I whisper to the faces, it helps me to talk to someone, even just to hear my own voice.

I walk to the doorway to my small house and pause. There is nothing but darkness before me. It is that strange darkness of a cold hell that I can neither see through nor escape. I step across the threshold of my house onto the hard ground outside. A small poof of dust wafts up into the air where my foot had touched. The air is still and dead, but I don't mind. I like the air better this way, it does not disturb my hair or blow dust into my mouth and nose. I like it better than... than what way? Have I known the air another way? It is another feeling in my mind that I know is there but cannot touch.

“Water…” I whisper to myself. “I need to draw water from the well. I need water. I need water to wash my hair. I need water…”

I walk across the ground, paying attention only to the small bits of grey dust that float up from my feet. Grey dust, I like it, it is not black even though it is in a world of black. The well is nearby; I sit down on the rocky edge and slowly lower the bucket down. Slowly it goes down and dips into the placid cold water below. I slowly start raising it up, and then I hear something. I hear something that is not me. It is not an animal, there are no animals here. It is not the breeze, there is no breeze here. It is not the darkness, the darkness makes no noise. I look around, all around, in all directions. Off to my left I see a tiny point, it seems to be glowing, glowing, it is growing brighter. The Sun! It must be the Sun! Tears start running down my face, not tears of sadness, but tears of joy. After all these years, after living so long and lonely in hell all my own, the sun is finally rising on my world. The bucket drops into the well with a splash as I get up and run towards the sun. My body is weak from all these years, so I cannot run very fast, but maybe, maybe if I try hard enough… I want to touch the sun. I want to feel its glow on my skin. I want to be warmed by the sun and feel it in my bones. I want to bathe my hair in the warm light. I want to… I feel something cold and hard go into my body, it stops me abruptly. The sun slowly fades from my eyes and disappears… it was so beautiful… only for a moment… only for a moment I got a chance to see the sun… only for a moment was my life beautiful… only for a moment…

“Haha! Look Mack! I got me one!” The grizzled man pointed to a crumpled figure on the ground.

“Nice one Hiru! Look at’r hair too! It’ll bring a nice price!”

“Haha! I’m gonna have some fun with that barmaid now for sure! I can finally pay ‘er!” The grizzled man grinned a toothless grin. Mack set the torch on the ground helped Hiru cut the long silky black hair off of the body.

“You think we can sell these clothes?”

“I’m sure some poor old wretch’ll buy em.”

“Alright,” Mack unceremoniously disrobed the limp figure.

“These Sohees are too easy, ya know. Just bring ‘em a torch and ya got it in the bag!”

Just for one single moment, life was beautiful, and then it was over. They say that the night is darkest the moment before dawn, but perhaps the world is darkest after the dawn, when mankind awakens…

I'll watch your back, even when you're not by Aeror

My name is Rhu'el. I am a priest living in the realm of Rune Midgad. I have a small but incredibly loyal group of friends. One of these friends, Flynn, had not been seen for several days. I traveled to a popular hangout of his, the city of Juno. I was well aquainted with many of it's inhabitants so starting there seemed like a good idea. After an hour of searching I ran across a mutual friend, the wizard Magnus Valcrist.

"Ah, Rhu. How are you?" he greeted.

"Alright. I haven't seen Flynn in a while. Have you seen him?"

"Not recently. He did say something about getting some rose quartz last I saw him."

I frowned at that notion. The only place I knew of to find rose quartz was Glast Heim. I didn't like the idea of Flynn in those depths by himself. It was dangerous for an experienced party let alone a single assassin.

Magnus noticed my look, "He wouldn't go alone there by himself, would he?"

"Yes. Yes, he would," I moaned, " We better try to catch up with him before he gets himself killed."

The airship could take us as close as Geffen. From there we would have to walk the distance to the Glast Heim prison. The city of Geffen did not offer as much variety as the captiol city but it had the wonderful perk of a magic store where I could stock up on supplies. Entering the shop I encountered a blacksmith successfully bartering with the owner. It was another mutual friend, Weyland. He turned and saluted.

"Hey guys, need a discount? the owner loves me."
I know the answer before I ask, "We're passing though to Glast Heim. Interested in a rescue mission?"
Weyland pulled a rather spiked and worn mace from his cart, "You had me at Glast Heim."
We took a few mintues longer to gather up the rest of our supplies and headed thought he fields of Geffen to the gates of Glast Heim. We avoided the Abysmal Knights and made short work of the gargoyles. We descended into the second level of the prison and searched for Flynn. Our fear was encountering the horrible monster known as Zealotus. It carried a powerful whip and it made slaves of injustice monsters. The sonic crack of it's whip could maim a crusader in full armor. It did not take long before she found us. She seemed to know that Magnus was the most dangerous and sent her injustice minions straight for him.

"Keep them off me so I can cast!" he shouted, but it was too late. They were already on him.
I had to act fast. I began to bark orders, "Weyland I'll focus my healing on Magnus! Take out the Zealotus!"
"No, problem, I got this!" Weyland shouted as he threw a handfull of zeny at Zealotus.
It seems most monsters are distracted by shiny zeny coins. He began to pummel it with his mace ferociously until it fell lifelessly to the ground. Magnus manged to get up a firewall and burnt the injustices into submisson. With the threat over we scoured the area for Flynn. We fought numerous other monsters and searched for what seemed like hours, finding nothing. We were running low on supplies and night was coming soon. We headed back to Geffen to restock and prehaps find more allies. Arriving in town we were shocked with what we found: Flynn walking out of Geffen tower.

"FLYNN!" Weyland screamed.

He turned without a care, "Eh? Oh, What's up guys."

Magnus stepped forward, "We heard you were looking for rose quartz in Glast Heim by yourself. We wanted to make sure you were alright."

Flynn let out a hearty laugh at the top of his lungs, "That'd be crazy. I just went to the shops in Prontera and bought what I needed. ..why are you looking at me like that?"

My name is Rhu'el. I am a priest living in the realm of Rune Midgad. I have a small but incredibly loyal group of friends. One of these friends, Flynn, is about to be running for his life  from three of his incredibly loyal friends.

The Healing by Absinthe Ranald

The pain was almost unbearable. After months of searching for clues to what had happened to her mother, she knew she could no longer go on. Laying on the cold hard earth Heather felt every blade of grass, every grain of dirt, graze and burn her skin. She coughed and felt her insides twist in agony. She'd fought the Abysmal Knight and he'd left her for dead. She couldn't believe she'd failed. Glast Heim was a dark place filled with evil secrets. She'd lost her mother to those secrets and it seemed they would take her too. All her years of training to become an assassin were wasted. With sadness Heather thought back on her life. The bitterness she'd held on to at the death of her mother seemed foolish. Becoming angry, Heather tried to sit up, her body recognizing an intense agony, it was to no avail. She closed her eyes and listened to the leaves in the tree above her rustling in the breeze. "I'm sorry Mother," she thought. "I'm sorry for everything." And then there was darkness.

He found her there, under the willow tree and felt his heart stop. Even in death he could see she was beautiful. He knelt beside her ravaged body and placed a hand upon her forehead. Bowing his head, Devin began to pray. "Let her be at peace," he whispered to himself. He jerked his hand back as if he'd been burned. She's alive!! Alive!! There was hope. Devin pulled his rosary from beneath his robes and called upon his healing powers. "Heal," he thought. "Let all my strength become hers, let her be well!" She groaned and her body writhed in the grass. Anticipation flared in his heart. She would wake any second.

Heather sighed as the pain began to subside. Her eyes fluttered open but she could not see. There was a radiant light surrounding her body hampering her vision. She stretched out her arms and pushed herself to her knees. The light faded away and she shook her head. The pain had been so intense before. She should have been dead! Her head cleared and she took the moment to look around. Her eyes met the deep blue eyes of a priest kneeling in front of her. "Did you...did you do this?" she whispered under her breath. Her throat was so dry. "Drink this," he said handing her a small bottle of wine. She took the bottle and drank deeply. It had the faintest hint of mastela fruit. She already felt better, alive!

The priest stood up and held his hand out to her, "Let me help you." Heather took his hand and stood up next to him. "I thank you priest," she said, her hand still in his. She could not pull her eyes away from his. "I consider it an honor," he replied lifting her hand to his lips to gently place a kiss upon her knuckles. She did not want to move. She was torn between staying with this priest and knowing that she must carry forward with her quest. She could not continue her life without the knowledge of what had become of her mother, but this priest, he intrigued her. "I will come with you," he said reading her mind. She tried to calm her wildly beating heart. "It will be a long and merciless journey," she replied. He was silent for a moment. "Please," she thought, "please stay with me." He looked back into her clear green eyes. "I would follow you wherever you may go." She breathed a sigh of relief and pleasure, "Then we must continue on." 

A girl sat curled up in the corner of a small room, clutching her knees close to her chest, watching the closed door carefully through her blonde hair. On the upper part of her right arm was a bandage, stained with her own blood. She twitched slightly at every rough knock, fearing everything that lay outside of the small room.

“You can’t escape, girl. Damn, you locked this up nicely…”

The voice on the other side of the door was harsh and deep. The girl cringed at the sound, sobbing more. It didn’t take long before the door was opened, two men walked in and grabbed the girl. It took both of them, as she flung her arms wildly, trying to escape the inevitable. Her right arm was grabbed, and she winced in pain, the man had a tight grip on it, and this caused her to give up.

A few hours passed before she woke up back in her own room, her right arm was untouched, this time it was her left leg covered in dried blood, bandaged right above her knee. She winced as she sat up, looking around at her room. She wondered what day it was, how long she had been here. Was she still in Lighthalzen? Was her family getting the money she was promised they’d get? That’s why she was here… her family was poor, and she needed to help them get money, so she had signed up for working at the new laboratory.

This was not what she had wanted. She never wanted to be a human guinea pig, used to tests. She yelled out, punching the bed with her good arm.

“Hey, there’s someone in there?” Said a voice from outside.

“Wh-who is there?” Her voice was shaky, he didn’t sound bad…

She limped to the door, peeking through it. Outside stood a man with blue hair, he didn’t wear the same clothes the scientists did. She opened it more, leaning on the wall for support. Her leg ached, and he could see this.

“Let me help you… it seems you’re in the same position I am, huh?”

She nodded, slowly helped over to her bed. She found he was here for the same reason. She wasn’t the only ‘subject’ here… there were more. Over a few weeks, they got to know each other more, visiting and keeping each other company while they awaited the next testing they had to endure. Week after week, month after month, not even knowing the season, hardly knowing the time of day, the subjects endured harsh testing. Twelve known subjects, at least, twelve subjects had been able to meet throughout the months, keeping each other sane despite the madness around them.

The blonde lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to move her body. She breathed heavily, and heard a familiar voice and knock on the door. The blue-haired subject walked in, sitting by her on the bed.

"I can't do this much longer... Just breathing hurts so much right now…”

“You can make it, Cecil, I know you can. Kath and Laurell are working on an escape. Just a few more days.” He tried giving her some water, trying to comfort the girl, hoping she could survive the wait.

“Hey, Eremes?” She looked towards him, smiling lightly, “try to blow up the laboratory when you escape. No one will ever go through this again. I’m going to destroy what I can tomorrow… I’ll die here, but I won’t let this torture happen to anyone else.”

With that she drifted off. Eremes punched the door frame as he walked out. She had already chosen her fate, and he could only wish there was something he could do to let her survive.

She kept her promise the next day. She fought the scientists the entire time, destroying everything she could, exhausting every ounce of her energy to ruin what she could. This sealed her fate, as she did not live to see that night. The remaining eleven followed her lead, after finding out that there was no escape. The Removers were guarding the laboratory too well, and there was no hope for escape, so they fought. Most of the research was destroyed, as were most of the subjects.

Now doppelgangers of their previous selves, they fought to protect the Somatology Laboratory. No one would ever have to live through the horrors they did. The laboratory was left alone for some time, the robots created to keep anyone in or out still functioned, disease plagued the lab. The upper floors of the laboratory remained home to it’s inhabitants.

No one was to come in, no one was to be harmed by this equipment again, no one was to pick up these instruments again.

War of Emperium by Ulkhani

I looked up at the man towering above me. His blade just short of my face, he stared me in the eye. Him, a Lord Knight. Me, a Biochemist. He thought he could outdo me easily.

"What is your guild?" He said in a very gruff, masculine voice. My heart raced angrily.

"I'm in the Stoner Council guild" I replied in my most defiant voice. He wouldn't know what I still had hidden up my sleeve.

"What kind of stupid guild name is that?" he inquired, looking at me with questioning eyes.

I laughed. "A very good one if you ask me. And we're NOT pushovers! Feathers, come ON!" I cried, as a bright light shone slightly ahead of me. A large blue bird seemed to have been summoned out of thin air.

"Get him! Moonlight!" I cried. The bird, Feathers, complied. She fluttered lightly over to the man and hit his pecopeco hard with her beak. I stood up, brushing the small amount of blood that had splattered onto my hand from when he had attacked someone else nearby, off onto my skirt. My auburn hair swung lightly as I poised myself into a pitcher stance. Holding two bottles in my hands, one per hand, I swung my left hand first, flinging the first bottle at him. In a small explosion, his cape caught fire. Then, with my right hand, the other bottle, a deathly green colour, caught fire as well. As it burned, the lid was quickly melted off, since it was very very thin plastic, it seemed. As a light liquid leaked out, the fire quickly spread on to it. I called Feathers back into her compressed form, and jumped behind a suit of armour within the castle to take cover from the soon to be resuting explosion. It would not take effect until I called out it's attack name though.

"ACID BOMB!!" I screeched at the top of my lungs. I whipped my hands up to my ears to prevent the sound from permanently damaging my ear drums, and closed my eyes. It was the last thing I heard at the time. Nobody else in the room dare approach me after that, allowing me to make my escape to the where the rest of my guild was. It gave me a feeling of bliss to often know I was needed as a warrior, as opposed to back in my Alchemist days when I was simply support.

I ran into a room which my guild tends to call the "Emperium Room", simply because it has the emperium in it. My guild leader looked up at me and smiled. From his mouth came the words "You did good, Yikki. You did good."

The Broken Sword  by Shinji Hiryu

Hmm? What's that you say? Why do I carry this old, battered sword among these new ones? Ah, this sword has much sentimental value; it is perhaps something which has helped me in my knighthood all these years. Would you like to hear my story? 

It was back in my squire days, training to become a knight.  I'd just about completed swordsmanship training under Shurank, a strict instructor at the Prontera Swordsman Association.  I had just finished a mission and felt quite proud of myself, however, still felt the need to push myself harder.  I then decided to head down to Prontera Culverts to do a little training.   
While down there, I stumbled upon an area I did not even know existed.  It was quite a ways down deep into the culvert system and the lighting was getting worse.  Suddenly, I was ambushed! Dozens of male thief bugs swarmed at me.  I managed to fend a few off but was forced to retreat.  I ran as fast as I could thinking, “Why are there so many of them!? They usually don't group up like this!” I stumbled while making a jump over a pipe and lost my scimitar in the water.  The angry mob of thief bugs drew near… I thought that would be the end of me.   

It got worse!  All of a sudden, a huge thief bug towered above the hoard, its shell glistening with a golden shine as the torch lights flickered.  I wasn't sure what I was thinking. Maybe, “might as well die trying?” I pulled out my knife and charged at the giant monster.   

Just as I was about to strike, there was a sudden explosion!  It knocked back the golden monster, scaring it off, and burned up the angry hoard of male thief bugs.  I was thrown back as well.  My confusion quickly turned into joy however as I looked up to see a magnificent knight towering above me.  She  extended her hand for mine and smiled, calling me “crazy” about charging at the monster with a standard issue knife.   

She reached to her side and unclipped one of the swords she had been carrying.  “Why don't you take this?  It was my first sword when I was training as you were.  I'm sure you'll find it useful. Please take good care of it.” It was a very beautiful sword, the edges finely refined surprisingly with oridecon rather than phracon!  She said it had been imported from a then newly discovered land called Amatsu, I'm sure you've heard of it.  Anyway, we then decided to return to the surface, she escorting me as her job of identifying the “strange golden light in Prontera Culvert.” 

It looked like we would see it again, as around the bend we saw it, right there, waiting for us.  It knocked her off guard, and she was dazed.  The monster resumed its charge.  I felt I had to do something and attacked the monster, thrusting the sword into its neck area.  The monster screeched in pain and retaliated, swinging its claw to the side and sending me flying into a wall.  Nearly blacking out, I caught the image of the knight standing up and giving that ugly monster a good old Bowling Bash!  The monster once again retreated.  The knight stood still for a moment… then burst out laughing.  I soon after stood and joined her.  We were both quite happy to be alive.  I looked at the sword she had given me and noticed that a good top portion had been snapped off it.  I apologized earnestly for ruining her beloved sword but she just shook her head and said “You see, that sword was indeed useful.  It brought out the knight within you.” That made me grin with pride.  As we returned to Prontera, she offered me another sword but I declined and kept this blade. This sword has been with me since. 

I actually used this sword well into my knighthood days, never repaired it.  Despite its state, I'll assure you, has done well to serve this humble knight and his kingdom.  To this day, Lady Amy still laughs at me about keeping her old sword, but that's quite alright.  It's a reminder of that fateful day and has since been a source of encouragement.  It's a reminder of the day that, in my heart, I truly became a knight.  

The Poring Familes & God Poing by Makk

Have you ever killed a poring? Of course, we all have. We've been seeing those little blobs of goo since we first started our lives in Rune-Midgard. Their cousins roam even further. From the sandy colored Drops to the green Poporing that has bested many a novice, to the strange Metalings and the giant Mastering, the variety  is quite vast. Poring, Drops, Poporings, Marin, Metalings and even the legendary Angeling, Deviling, Ghosting, and ArcAngeling; there are even rumors of a Poring God spotted in the days of yore... but what is the reason for this variety in species? That is what I have been studying all of these years.

            The answer boils down quite simply.....evolution. It effects all of us, human or monster and even our world changes over time; sometimes slowly, sometimes drastically.  The Poring families follows the same rules as we all do. The fossil record for Porings is amazing...more amazing then the fact that Porings can even become fossilized! So far, this is what I have deduced...

            At first there was only the humble Poring; years before armies of novices forced them to live in fear they roamed the fields of Rune-Mitgard in herds of thousands. It was a majestic sight. Alas, some sort of a calamity occurred, we're still not quite sure what, but it forced a change in the porings. Some fused to near by objects...plants, sand, metal...as you can guess, this resulted in the Poporings, Drops and Metalings respectively. Some “pure” Porings remained while others changed in more dramatic ways.

            Some developed a sense of “ego”, a sense of “self”. They started choosing the sides of good and evil. Some choose to protect other Porings...some try to own entire islands and use them for their own selfish needs an desires. The Angeling branch resulted from this as well as the Deviling species. A few chose to be heros and the mysterious Bring It On evolved, with the strength of thousands of his brethren. In the old temples, there was reference to a “God Poing” of some sort. It was worshiped as a God back when our kingdom was created.

            The various Poring types all built their own altars to God Poing in different corners of the world. It's said that if you follow the clues given at each altar, you will arrive at the final altar of God Poing. There can be found the symbol of the old religion, a reward for all those that venture for the true spirit of Rune-Mitgard. I found one altar so far, the Altar of the Poring, hidden on Poring Island. The clue I found there read:

          “ We Poring pledge our allegiance to God Poing, the true God. The Drops clan, our brothers,  sing your praises from the oasis in the sands...”

            Where will all the clues point? That is still for us to find out...

Wandering Steel by Suzaku

            Have you heard the story of the wandering blacksmith? Her name is Lysial, you may have heard of her, and the weapons she creates. They say she has no equal within Rune Midgard, but yet her past is shrouded in mystery. Where did she learn her skill with the hammer? Why does she wander?

            This tale begins in the city of Einbroch with her brother, a young and inexperienced alchemist by the name of Rysial. Like many other alchemists, he was searching for the epitome of medical science. His search led him far and wide, from the tribal forests of Umbala, across the Sograt Desert, over the moutains of Mjolnir, to the resort village of Hugel. After hearing rumours of genetic engineering and artificial life, Rysial headed to the city of Lighthalzen. Disguised as a scientist, he found the laboratory hidden beneath the depths of the city, and after many hours of searching and questioning, he found the information about creating artificial life.

             Rysial spent days trying to create life, only meeting failure upon failure for each experiment. However, after many failures, he finally succeeded, and before his very eyes, a faithful and compassionate Lif was born. It did not take Rysial long to see that this homunculus was capable of healing abilities, and for some time, he believed he found the pinnacle of medical science. But it was not long afterwards that he discovered there were illnesses that even his Lif could not heal. Disappointed, but not hopeless, he embarked again, returning to the city of Lighthalzen to seek more answers for his questions.

            He knew the laboratories studied genetic engineering, but what he discovered shocked him. On the lower depths of the laboratory, he found many young adventurers, altered and experimented on until they only could do one thing: kill. None the less, he did not stop, and with his faithful Lif, he battled deep into the laboratories restricted area, trying to find an answer.

            After many hours of searching, he eventually found his solution in the most unlikely form. In the furthest corner of the laboratory, he discovered an artefact of history – Ymir’s Heart. Rysial himself didn’t know what to do, but his Lif did. She touched Ymir’s Heart, flooding the room in blinding light. After a bit of time, the light subsided, as though being drained into the hands of Rysial’s Lif, until it was a faint, emerald glow upon her fingers. Confusion struck the pair, but that was short lived, as the explosion of light alerted everything on the floor.

            No one knows what happened to Rysial afterwards, but they say his Lif appeared at her master’s home in Einbroch to do one final thing before disappearing from existence as well. She was there to do one thing and one thing alone: to cure Lysial.

            Lysial was suffering from a life-debilitating and incurable illness. But somehow, on that night, that Lif cured Lysial of all sickness—something that no other alchemist, priest, or homunculus has been able to do.

            Lysial awoke, not recalling anything from the past months of illness, but knew that her brother cured her sickness, because on the table beside her bed, laid the ice swordmace that she crafted for him before her illness took over her. With his swordmace by her side, she began to wander the lands of Rune Migard, in hopes of one day reuniting with her brother.  Her passion with the hammer is the same passion that drives her to find her brother.

The Hidden Battle by Makk

Many have heard of the epic battles or yore, and all know of the impending Ragnarok, but there was a battle, no, there IS a battle, that still rages that goes beyond all that you may have heard. It's fought in the shadows, in alleys, in the dead on night, and where stars shine both above and below. The blood spilled in this fight could fill the culverts of Prontera to overflowing, and the tears could quench the flames of Lord Morroc himself. This battle, this war...reaches from the moving sands of Louyang, to the burning sands of Paros. Why have you not heard of this war? Simple, it's because of who's fighting it...

Pirates and Ninjas

.

.

.

.....

Wait! Don't leave! I'm being perfectly serious! It is a battle that is decades old and full of intrigue and adventure. Heh, I saw that twinkle in your eye when I said “adventure”. Do you want to hear the story? Fine, if you insist.

            The war began exactly 76 years ago. There were two friends, so close that brothers would be a better word to describe them. There was  John Morgan, a mountain of a man, he liked his liquor, women and a good fight. Loud and quite the boaster; basically, he was a party animal. His friend went by Jack Jones, no one knew his real name, he was found bobbing in Alberta harbor, drunk and speaking in some gibberish that no one could understand. There was one thing about Jack that the Captains of Alberta noticed quite quickly though, he was a sailor; his gate, his manners, his very skin told of someone who has lived life on the sea.

            Now, Jack and John were an odd fellowship; as loud and brash as John was, Jack was quiet and meticulous. As with many odd relationships, this one began at a bar, where Jack stumbled in in a daze straight into John's back, spilling his rum. John, being the brawler he is, immediately went to swing at Jack. Jack's daze was broken by the sight of the giant about to level him out. The next moment found John on the floor with a crooked nose. John stood up, grabbed a bottle of rum, stared at Jack....and offered him a drink. Now, a few bottles later, they ended up on the pier and they both realized, without  a word, that they both had one very important thing in common...a love for the sea. John was a sailor on the ship, “Tyr's Vengeance” and managed to get Jack aboard as a deckhand.

            Jack worked hard, cleaning the decks, working in the galley and even polishing the ship's cannons. John on the other hand, well I guess you can say he decided to personally guard the rum. The captain, was a heartless man, every rule broken resulted in lashings. John, as one can imagine, had experienced a few of these himself.

            The crew eventually had enough of the old captain's torture and they mutinied. John became the new captain and at first, Jack was standing alongside his friend...then the ship changed. The crew could not find a friendly port, word of their treachery spread from tavern to tavern. The crew was starving, broke, and desperate. They were desperate enough that eventually, they went to piracy. They started targeting the ships of the Royal International Agricultural Alliance, whose ships were filled with food and zeny. Jack, at first went along with the raids, but he could no longer stand for what he saw was the desecration of the sea.

             He confronted Jo...well, I guess you could call him Captain Morgan, about the situation. Morgan, who, as usual, was a bit drunk took another swing at Jack, this time though, the crew stepped in and restrained Jack. John could not believe his friend could betray him, he was furious! He had Jack thrown into a  skiff and set adrift. Jack was screaming back at John, calling him a traitor. That struck John,  yet, if his crew thought that he was soft, he would  end up joining the old man as shark bait. As the skiff floated away, Jack took off his hat, a red 3-point hat, his most prized possession. He threw it to the skiff and shouted, “This should keep the sun back, never say I wasn't kind!”

            Jack was adrift for a week, despair and the sun where his only companions. Then, he suddenly noticed something on the horizon...land. He paddled with his hands, he kicked behind the boat, he eventually swam his way to the sands of a strange new land; its people called it Amatsu. The revenge burning in his heart lead him to some...unsavory characters.

            Three years later, Morgan stumbles out of a bar in Comodo he decides to take the pier back to his ship. As he made his way back, he noticed a small noise behind him, he swung around and a shuriken found it's way into his chest. As he lay dying he saw a man walk out of the darkness. The man removed his mask.

            “Here, this will keep the sun back, never say I wasn't kind...”

            He threw the mask at John and put on a tattered red hat.

            “Good-bye my friend.”

            As the man turned back to the shadows a shot rang out, Morgan's cabin boy stood there with a smoking pistol, and the man dropped to the pier.

You see, I was that cabin boy. I buried them both before the Knights of Prontera showed up, Jack with John's hat, and John with Jack's mask...but this did not bring peace. The Ninjas that Jack worked with vowed vengeance on the Pirates of Rune-Midgard. Now, wherever they meet, they fight.

Don't believe me?...Go to Comodo and look around...proof still lies there somewhere...

The Legendary Assassin by  darkbunnysaku

The assassin checked to make sure her knives were sharp. She looked at the imposing palace gates, feeling the cool night air on her bare arms.

It had taken her so long to get there. All the hardships she’d endured to this day… All the pain she felt. The loneliness.

Kazeo… mother…  Forgive me.

Sora looked at her children weakly, tearing her watery eyes away from the poorly thatched ceiling of their home. She raised a thin, trembling hand. “Children,” she whispered, her melodic voice now shaky and rough. “Saku, Kazeo. Come here.”

A dark-haired girl and a boy who looked exactly like Sora approached her bedside. Sora hugged them tightly against her frail body. “Ah, my babies. I have so much to apologize for.”

The girl, Saku, shook her head violently. “No, mother. You’ve done so much.”

Kazeo wept loudly. “Mama! You’ll get well! Just save your strength.” He clutched her as hard as he could, his tears soaking into her worn sweater sleeve.

“Saku,” Sora said, turning to her eldest child. “In Rune-Midgard, go to your father-”

“I refuse!” Saku shouted. “I will not seek him out after he abandoned us.”

“Saku, please. Your father can help.”

“Kazeo and I will be fine on our own,” Saku insisted.

“Saku…” Sora grew limp. She fell from her children’s arms.

“MAMA!” Kazeo screamed, panicked. “Mama, wake up.”

Saku quietly put her fingertips to her mother’s wrist. “Kazeo, be quiet,” she whispered grimly.

“Mama!”

Saku could not look at her brother, who was bitterly crying over their mother’s still-warm corpse.

“Stop, thief!”

Saku clutched the two bottles of milk tightly, weaving through the alleys expertly. She laughed as the sounds of the milk seller chasing her faded as he gave up. She looked up, seeing an airship soar above her as it flew leisurely towards Izlude.

She ran into the pitiful hovel that housed herself and Kazeo, bolting the door firmly behind her. “Kazeo! I have dinner.”

“Sis! I have great news!” he said, hugging her tightly. “The airship engineer said I could apprentice with him!”

“That’s great!” She handed him a bottle of milk. “Let’s toast to that.”

There was a knock at the door. She cautiously opened it a crack. “Yes?”

An official messenger from the Rune-Midgard kingdom stood in front of her. “Letter for you, ma’am.” He handed her a thick envelope. He then tipped his hat courteously, and left.

“Who’s it from?” Kazeo asked eagerly, his mouth lined with milk.

She opened the envelope, taking the letter out. It had the seal of King Tristan on it. She unfolded it, unable to guess why she’d get such a letter.

“My children,” the letter read. “I have found out that your mother, my darling Sora, is no longer. I wish for you to journey to Prontera. There, one of my envoys shall meet you and take you to me. Godspeed.”

Saku’s hands shook as she tore up the letter. The father that they never knew, who left them to starve and steal while he lived comfortably, now acknowledges them? Where was he all their lives? He didn’t even know their names!

“Sis? Who’s it from?”

Her face burned with fury. How dare that man assume he can just do as he pleases! “No one.” She handed him her milk. “Drink up. An apprentice needs his strength.”

That night she packed what little she had. She left Kazeo a note telling him to be string, that she would return, and a kiss on his cheek. She ran through the dark streets of Juno, holding back tears.

As she neared the border, a guard called after her. “Wait! It’s not safe out there at night! Devilring have been spotted out there!” he shouted. “Where are you going?”

“To Prontera!” she answered, already disappearing in the dark mountains surrounding Juno. “To kill my father!”

****

She walked to the palace gates, looking up at the guard tower. She blinked back tears, unable to allow herself such weakness. “I’m here for my father, King Tristan. My name is Saku!”

She smiled bitterly as the heavy gates slowly parted with loud groans. She withdrew a sharp blade from its sheath and entered the palace.

Father. Hello. And goodbye.

The Hunting of the Kree by Sera

A mysterious man sat in the corner of the Alberta pub, drinking drink after drink. He looked as if he had been around the world far too many times. Never being one to miss an epic tale, I sat beside him and bought him a drink.
“Tell me girl,” he said to me. “What is your name, and why do you buy me this drink.”
“I am called Sera, and I wish to hear your tale.”
“I have no name to tell, but I will tell you a tale of such sadness as you never did hear. Listen and believe… if you so choose.”
He then proceeded to relate the following tale:

I awoke last night in a turbid sea,
The captain of the ship, he said to me:
“I welcome you aboard our ship The Giddy & Glee
Your presence now makes three
It’s you and me and Bethany
And we’re out to slay the Kree!”

“Where shall we find this Kree?”
Asked Bethany
“The Kree slumbers in the quiet sea.”
Said Captain Lee
“I know as well as thee,
There is no tepid sea!”
Cried Me
“Aye!” Said old Bob Lee
“But there be a Kree!
And as long as there be a Kree,
There will be a silent sea.”

“How shall I know this Kree?”
“His scales are green and oily,
And his breath, it smells of tea!”
“And of his eyes?” I asked with jimmery
“Of his eyes? There be three!”
“This Kree is truly a bad enemy,
To meet alone at sea!”

“Of the Eddga, Bio3, and Kree,
Which be the fiercest of the three?”
“Tis the Kree!”
Cried old Bob Lee
“Against the Kree,
The Eddga  is a flea
And the Bio3  no better than me!”

“How will you kill this Kree?”
I asked of Captain Lee
“With my Axe of Infinity!”
He said in certainty.

“Avast!” cried Bethany
From the tree
That grew only in the sea
“What is it?” cried We
“Guess what I see!” said she
“What?! What do you see?!”
“Out ‘tween the oceans of Tander and Caballee,
There swims the Kree!”
“The Kree?!”
“Yes, the Kree!”
“Bring me my Axe of Infinity!”
Cried old Captain Lee
So I brought him his Axe of Infinity.

We disembarked out on the sea,
And across the waves we walked to meet the Kree.

He reared his head and chottled his kee,
He bared his teeth (His breath like tea)
Long we battled the subjectous Kree
Till he ate the arm of Bobby Lee
“No more can I fight!” cried he,
Long staring stood Bethany
Who of blood and gore did never see
I continued to fight the enemy

Till I was grabbed by that zanderous Kree
“Help me!”
I cried to Bethany
“No more can I flee!”
Broken willed stepped she,
In the path of the naggrid Kree
She swung the Axe of Infinity
And cut off the creature’s kee
It screaled and was angry
It flashed its teeth (And breathed its breath of tea)
Bethany screamed in pain as she was cut in three

I screamed in rage “KREE!
Make haste to do battle with me!
And taking the falumbrious Axe of Infinity
I slew the hated Kree
I ran to my beloved Bethany
Lying in three
Next to the kee and the Kree

“Bethany!”
I cried, “It cannot be!
“My love was for thee
And thine for me!”

“Oh sorrowful day to be!
There’s nothing left
But dead Bobby Lee
The Kree
And pieces of Bethany!
Woe is me to lose it all to that zanderous Kree!”

I buried them side by side, all three:
The captain, Bethany, and the Kree,
And I was left all alone out on the tepid sea

After he had finished, he refused to speak with me further. I left the pub, and never looked behind me. A greater man, I never have known…

Jellopy by Hina

A mother tucks in her child for bed. With his hands poking from beneath the covers, he earnestly asks his mother a question ?

Child: Mommy, what happens to all the jellopies that I find?

Mother: Goodness gracious! You’ve been playing among the porings again,
haven’t you? You better not be giving away those jellopies to strangers!

Child: Of course not mommy! I sell them to the armor dealer.

Mother: Oh, then I hope you didn’t spend all your zeny on candy.

Child: !!

The mother takes a seat beside him.

Mother: I guess it can’t be helped. You’re still young.

Child: So, where do they all go?

Mother: Let’s see…the jellopies are returned to the monsters.

Child: Really?

Mother: Yes.

Child: How?

Mother: Well, we have a contract with them. We get together and exchange
goods.

Child: And what do we get?

Mother: You know the monsters that live in the caves and in the mines. There
are plenty of precious metals down there. The monsters have no need of them
so they use them to trade.

The child yawns.

Child: And what do we use the metals for?

Mother: The blacksmiths melt and forge them into zeny, and that zeny gets
put into the economy.

The child rubs his eyes.

Child: But mommy, why do they want the jellopies back in the first place?

Mother: Whenever a monster has fallen, they leave behind a drop whether that
be a jellopy, a fluff, or a clover. Inscribed within that drop is a piece of
their soul. You see, the monsters gather these materials and recycle them in
nature’s life stream.

Child: I thought all monsters were bad mommy…

Mother: There is not much difference between humans and monsters. We all
come from that same essence. Boys like you come from ash and girls elm…

The child has fallen asleep. She stands up and kisses him on the forehead.

Mother: Remember this when you become a true adventurer my son.

History of Detale by Kaiya

Hello there, traveler. Have you ever heard the story of the once great, but greedy, Lord of Hugel, Detale?

   He was a lord that was great keeping the market fresh, and the poverty low. But the only reason he excelled
at this, was that he was a miser, one who counted and kept their money all to themself, to save forever.

   How could one be great at keeping market for his people great, while earning enough to keep enough zeny to
keep himself happy? That, I don't know, since I'm not like that. But, it was his own greed that transformed him
into the monster in the pits of Abyss.

   It started, many years ago...

----------------

"No No NO! That will NOT cover the COSTS and keep room for GAIN!" A young red headed, and clothed, man, Detale, yelled out.

"But, milord, how else shall we get the ingredients?..." replied a smaller, green cloaked lad.

"I don't care if you have to steal them, just make sure it's CHEAP!"

"Yes milord..."

   Ferus, the loyal servant of Lord Detale, ran out of the room, into the city, and eventually into the countryside.
From there, he quickly lept across the fields, rocks, passing the oddly formed metalings without a second glance. In
only a few minutes, Ferus reached his destination, a seemingly abandoned house, one fit for a hermit.

   Looking around cautiously... Ferus slowly made his way to the rear end of the house, where a small celler door was
kept, underneath a fair amount thorny vines. Opening it in a peicemeal fashion, as trying not to be scratched by the
vines, he finally climbed in, and setting the door back to normal. Creeping along the dark, the servant ultimately
came across a barrel, in which he snatched up, and hurriedly followed his steps out, and started his journey back
to his master.

----------------

   The barrel, celler, and pretty much most of the outlands, belonged to one lone alchemist. This alchemist spend his entire
life searching for one thing, something that has been sought after for years...

----------------

   Inside the castle room, the assistant gave the barrel to his lord.

"YES!!! This is EXCACTLY what we needed! How much did you say it cost?" exclaimed Detale, after peering inside.

"Free, milord. It was laying outside in the fields..." answered Ferus... if not a little too slowly.

"WHAT? What is wrong with it? This is NOT something a sane person will just throw away!"

"I've thoroughly searched it, nothing is wrong, and it is of the highest quality."

"You better be right, or the mages will have some fun with you..."

----------------

"YES! OH MY GOD, YESSSS!!! IT WORKS!" Detale jumped up and down, excitement clearly showing on his face, and nearby sages
showing similar emotions.

"How ... !! The Alchemists have been searching for HUNDREDS of years to do this, how can WE DO THIS?!" bursting out of a
small built sage, as she lifted up slightly wet gold peices.

"I dont CARE HOW, but WE DID IT! The alchemists always went on about turning things to gold, but they never DID THIS!" once
again yelling from Detale, fishing through the newly formed gold in front of him. Holding up a peice, his eyes grew wide...

   Outside, the sky grew dark. The rain cascaded down, as gales following quickly in pursuit. Lightning covering the sky for  a few
seconds only before returning the once bright day into the sudden night.

   Inside the room where the once celebrating lord and his servents, the mood changed, replacing joy with fear...

"What's happening?!"

"The wizards never said this was going to happen today!!"

"Is the gold safe?!?!"

   Abruptly, the door swung open, a silhouette stiffly walked in, gender indefinable.

"Quam praesumo vos rapio meus opus , meus decor , meus Vita!" The figure rapidly cursed. "Totus vestrum es vomica, extraho,  protego quis vos pallium! Aurum vestri vita vadum fio tantum!"

   The lightning blazed brighter, quicker, thunder clapped closer, louder, shaking the support of the castle. Screams were  desperatly called out, hoping for help, only to be drowned by the chanting and booming thunder.

"Reputo vos would adepto absentis, occulto intus vestri domus! Ignavus profugus ex vestri templum! Profugus ex vestri salus!  Intus lacus, intus specus!"

   Radiant fire stretched from the reciting mass, flowing around Lord Detale, the sages, and present servents. Circling them,  again and again, until the blame completely engulfed the bodies. Slowly, the sphere of fire grew smaller, eventually fading  away... Along with the prisoners inside of it.

"Despero vadum exsisto vestri cubile!" One last cry from the physical shadow.

   After the fire had completely left, the storm outside calmed down, brightening up the inside of the chamber once again.  Scorch marks covered everything, and the man-made gold had disappeared along with Detale. The new light also chased away the  dark that once clutched to the figure, revealing a seemingly young man, though his hair was completely silver. Each of his  arms were scarred and of different colours, his right arm a swirling combination of grey and blue, his left the colour of  gold. Even his face was an odd shade of red. Played too long with chemicals and explosions it seemed, a pure alchemist.

   As the alchemist turned around to walk away, a small hissing sounded, near the spot of the fire earlier. Twirling around,  quickly to spot a flaming serpent arise into a cobra pose, looking as it was ready to strike. But, it's hisses seem to have  words in them...

**A curssse... issss not... without itsss.... cosssst...**

   With the final words, the blaze reptile lunged at the alchemist, who tried to jump out of the way in vain, wrapping itself  around the torso of the man. Few moments later, no sign of his original body could be detected, as the fire covored each  inch. Then it doubled in size, only for a blink, then shrunk into itself and disappeared...

----------------

   It is said, that the curse the alchemist put on Detale and his servitors, transformed them into the dragons that are deep  into the Abyss caves... Detale, as the largest and in the deepest, to forever watch over the piles of gold. The sages, the  Acidus twins, also are said to join him mostly in the deepest part of the caves. However, Ferus, the one who caused the  problem in the beginning, has supposedly been seen as a green dragon, running around the entrance of the cave, searching for  a way out. Some say the 5th dragon in Abyss caves used to be Ferus's sister, spying on them on the day of the curse...

  And what about the alchemist, you may ask? Well, try an adventure down there, and see for yourself. You may find out for  yourself!

Days of Luck by Vivaci

In the days of Luck, I do not believe that I ever felt unwanted or unnecessary. Even after we disbanded, I never had any bad memories of those days. Although it was not without hardship, we were all perfectly united in our desire to help the people where the monarchy was apathetic, at most.

Luck was formed in the early years of King Tristan III, following an infamous state dinner at which it was announced that aid for the ailing victims of a monster attack in the east was being held back until the potholes in the roads of Geffen (caused by an experimental error by an inexperienced mage) were fixed. Marcia, captain of the Royal Guard, expressed her discontent in the form of a crystal goblet smashed to millions of tiny shards in the center of the throne room and the door slamming behind her as she left the castle and, consequently, the service of his Majesty.

Marcia possessed neither beauty nor wealth, but she was charismatic in every other way. She was plain to look at, with short brown hair, brown eyes and a stocky build, but still she displayed the power and grace of experience and her eyes pulled one in with their warmth and their lively sparkle. She had become captain of the Royal Guard at the prodigious age of twenty-one without the help of any money or rank on the side of her family, nor any special favor of the king. She believed in hard work and in her soldiers and later her freedom fighters, she expected no less than resolute determination. At twenty-three, she had achieved the rank of Paladin, a remarkable feat for one so young. Every young knight-hopeful wanted to be like her, and all her comrades held her in great respect. While under her command, I also learned that she was every inch a cynic and loved to tell sarcastic anecdotes about Lady Such-and-such or Lord Thus-and-so from her days at court. It was in this manner that she pulled us all in and held us together.

I was the sixth member of the group known as Luck. By that time, Marcia had collected quite a hodgepodge of followers.  The first of these was Franz, a young knight who had joined Marcia on a whim as she flew out of the royal stables in a rage. The second, Vadni, was a battle-hardened crusader, who had never opted to pursue promotion and found Marcia’s new path to be a welcome change from peacetime boredom. Leiola was next, a sharp-tongued, fire-tempered priestess who never should have gone into the church, but who used her healing powers generously to help any and all in need. Imp, a young thief with the fastest fingers in all Rune-Midgard, tagged along behind.

I was a jaded swordsman, twenty years of age. I had somehow been admitted into the Swordsmen’s Guild despite being blind and a little stripling of a girl to boot. However, my blindness was more than enough of an excuse to keep me from being knighted, even though I could have passed all their tests with flying colours if they had only let me try.

I had met Marcia once before. I had been at the castle to plead my case for the first time before the council of the few Lord Knights and Paladins that the Royal Guard boasted. I will always remember the first time I heard her voice because it was the only one to give a supportive vote that day. The second time I heard that voice was when I sat against a tree outside of Izlude after my third failed attempt to convince the King of my worth. That time, it asked me if I would like to join it in a quest to help the people of Rune-Midgard where the nobility had failed. I do not remember if I stopped to think before grasping the hand that touched mine.

Each of us contributed differently to the cause. Franz, for instance, despite his ferocious loyalty to Marcia, was always the one to question orders if he perceived a risk – an action that kept us out of trouble many a time. I fell into the role of the night watchman. My blindness became an asset for the first time. I was uninhibited by light and dark, and my ears had no blind spot, so I could sense an attack from any direction.

The next few years flew by with the speed and excitement of a maelstrom as we built up our reputation from vaguely famous to legendary. Some days, we were the sworn adversaries of the monarchy, dedicated to throwing back into their faces the empty words of comfort they dispersed to the citizens. Other days, we ended up helping the crown either indirectly or directly, as Marcia chose. The one thing that never changed was that we were heroes to the people of our country, and many of us gorged ourselves on fame and hero worship, believing that we could live that way forever.

The day that Marcia called us all together, several years after she had stormed out of the palace, we all knew immediately that it was the end. She gave no goodbye, and did not tell us how well we had done, or to continue our work without her. She simply said that if we tried to protest, she had no qualms about drawing her sword. And she walked out.

We all went our separate ways after that and although I often meet my former comrades here and there, what happened to Marcia remains a mystery. I heard tell once that she was travelling the world, helping those in need. Another tale spoke of her death defending a small village from an invasion by monsters. Personally, I like to think she is still alive and well and that one day, when I step through the door of my house, she’ll be there, making sarcastic remarks on the colours of my curtains, and we’ll laugh together again.

Delivery to Niflheim by Bell

A very short girl with hair the color of olive leaves catches your eye. Her unblinking doe-eyed stare draws you closer… Two children stay around her dress, both with hair as red as papaver flowers.
Bell: “H-hello, adventurer.” Her small voice offers a faint reply to your approach.
Player: “Hey.”
Bell: “Would you help me?”
Player: “Okay.”
Bell: “Oh, thank heaven… please, take this.” She hands you a parcel bundled in crimson paper. It’s lightweight. “It is my husband’s birthday but he is on a crusade for King Tristram III far away in Nifflheim. He is the lead Crusader on the team sent there to find the missing adventurers…”
Player: “Missing… adventurers?”
Bell: “Oh yes, so many have gone missing who go to Nifflheim. My husband has been gone now over a year but I saw him three months ago, we had a family get-together in Hugel.”
Player: (Wondering what this has to do with the package.) “Oh…”
Bell: “Why you look so calm! I guess you really aren’t worried about going to Nifflheim to deliver that package to my husband?”
Player: (Ting) “Wait a second…”
Bell: She looks at you softly with her motherly stare. “I will give you a reward, of course. It is very important to my family that the package gets to him.”
Player: “Oh, well in that case-you can count on me, Miss!”
Bell: “Thank you!”
Player: (You wave at the petite woman and step back; wrestling two coins from your bag you flick one after another off your thumb at the two twins. They grab a coin each and smile widely.)

(Once player gets to Niff, they find the unit of Crusaders. There are three different crusaders, one has brown hair, one has long red hair, and one has blonde hair. When player engages any of the three, some monsters will spawn. The player cannot speak to the three NPC ‘saders until the monsters are defeated.)

(Player clicks on any of the three Crusader NPCs)
Player: Turning back to the three armored Crusaders you realize you have no idea who you’re looking for. Bell forgot to tell you her husband’s name…
Crusader: “Hurry up, you! More monsters will come, we have to hold this line and you’re in the way!”
Player: (Mutters) “Your welcome…”
(Which Crusader do you give the package too?)
Brown Haired Crusader
Red Haired Crusader
Blonde Haired Crusader

(If player picks Brown or Blonde, same amount of monsters as first experienced will re-spawn. Initial text will re-play out until they choose Red Hair)
Red Haired Crusader: “What? From Bell? That’s my wife!” (The large armored man takes the package from you and opens the box. Inside is a piece of paper.)
Player: “Who are you…”
Red Haired Crusader: “Ha-ha-ha!” (He laughs deeply and happily) “It’s time to head to Jawaii and have some drinks; I’m going to be a father again!” (He pats you on the back, nearly knocking you over, then grabs your hand and starts to shake it. His grip is like iron.) “I’ll be seeing you, young adventurer. Do one more thing for me and give this note to my wife when you see her again.” (You take the Hand Written Letter from the Crusader)
Player: “Congratulations, sir.” (Gosh my back hurts&hellip

(Back to Comodo)
Bell: “Thank you so much for what you have done for my family!”
Player: “Wait, this is from your husband… whoever he is.” (You give Bell the Hand Written Letter.)
Bell: “Oh, this is wonderful! He’ll be coming home soon- for good! Oh, I better be giving you that reward I promised.” (Bell gives you your reward) “Please come visit us again.”
Player: “Hey, what’s your husband’s name?”
Bell: “Stavros.”
Player: (Maybe I can catch him for some of those drinks in Jawaii&hellip

The 9 selected were NOT the first 9 submitted. It was 100% merit. One of my guild mate's entry was lost, and she couldn't rewrite another one.

Heimdallr - 9/27/2007 6:32 PM Unfortunately due to a critical issue with our mail server, all the contest submissions were lost. Any that were submitted between 6/6/2007- 7/1/2007