Since the urge to be a woman and beautify and/or improve everything we see was overwhelming, I donned my shield, my sword, utilized my medieval steroids and promptly pranced out into the wild in search of fundage for my female addiction. Decorating.
Since my time was limited and the urge to return home with that blasted vase and flower seeds was pressing, I opted for a nearby location that was relatively easy for me and interesting as well. I found the screeches of dying Terathons amusing. (Sick and twisted me.
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I was well on my way. Terathons of every sort were falling quickly by my masterfully wielded sword. I quickly looted them, like the pillager I am, and bounced on to the next only to watch it drop a few strokes of my sword later. I continued with my massacre of the creatures with a sadistic smile on my face. Every one that fell put me closer to the perfect domicile.
I had reached a wooden bridge where a raging river of lava flowed beneath. Having been on this bridge multiple times, I had gotten over the fear of falling into the scalding liquid. I continued to plow my way through creatures. I was fighting a particularly nasty Djinni when suddenly, everything went black. (Connection loss. Need I say more?) It was several hours later when my spirit was able to recover it's senses enough to alert me to the fact that I was no longer living. (There went my lovely flowers.
) Disappointment wasn't nearly a strong enough word. My ghastly white specter began searching for my fallen body, which was nowhere to be found. After searching endlessly along the area of the wooden bridge, the horrid thought occurred to me. "Those wretched beasts pushed my corpse into that river of lava!" Anger welled up inside me. I would once again don armor, march right to this spot and avenge myself! Err...first to rejoin the ranks of the living. Yup. That would be a good idea. My anger subsided somewhat. It's rather hard to stay angry when one is dead.
My first task was seek out my husband then haunt and whine until he aided me in my vengeance. Which he did, willingly. He's a sweetheart like that. He arrived at the "eeeeviiiil spot", which I had dubbed it, and quickly dispatched those creatures that were stupid enough to be in the vicinity. Hell hath no fury like my husband pushed by the whinings of his wife!
Unfortunately, all this hacking, slashing and dispatching of creatures turned up nothing but my silver scimitar. It seemed those nasty creatures really had pushed my corpse into the river. (Wicked creatures. All I wanted was flowers!)
I had decided to return to town and began acquiring personal belongings. After all, one can only stay in a death robe for a certain amount of time. It's not fashionable and they make my butt look big. Thomas had decided to stay a few more moments. He would rejoin me shortly. I knew the opening was near but I could not see it. Alas, darkness had fallen and me in my current ghostly state with no ability to rectify this sight loss, could not see it. I stumbled blindly into the wall of the cave, bounced off, felt my way to the opening only to bounce off once again. Death has a way of alleviating pain but not humiliation. I darted through and smacked into the wall of the structure at the entrance. I redeemed myself by wending my way through the caskets and finding my way out of the blasted place. I was flying blindly back to town when I noticed a fellow Britannian standing outside the entrance. I continued my break neck pace. I had to live! No time for spectral chitchat! The fellow citizen chased me down and forcefully resurrected me! (The nerve of some people!) Azzo, although he pretends to be gruff, is actually a very good Samaritan. After hearing my long winded, and somewhat whimpering tale, he trekked off into the dungeon to attempt to find my belongings. (What a nice bad guy.
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I continued on my journey home and met up with Loakie. Again I recounted my tale. More because I was dressed like a pauper-ish necromancer than anything. My embarrassment at my attire was overruling my mind. I blurted out that I was wearing the death robe due to a certain loss of life that had deprived me of decent apparel. (Women, sheesh. )
Loakie decided he'd join the hunt and off he went. I trudged to the bank feeling incredibly depressed. The leisurely stroll did much for my spirits. I began to think, it's not very much different from being new here. I would be optimistic and just look at this as a challenge. Everyday we have new challenges and we overcome them. This would be no exception. I stepped jauntily into the bank with a fresh smile on my face and a new reason for living. (Even though my butt still looked big in the death robe.)
I met several more citizens in the bank and once again recounted my horrifying tale of death and loss of equipment, which is just as bad as death.
I have always liked this realm. And I say "liked". Although I am very fond of the land itself, I have continued to isolate myself from the Britannian society as a whole. There is nothing wrong with Britannian society as a whole. Most of the people I've encountered are very sociable, polite and incredibly helpful. They're pleasant conversationalist and their inquiries about your health and happiness are genuine and sincere. My feeling on my new home reached another plateau that day. My fellow citizens, my friends, offered their own belonging to replace my lost ones without hesitation. No only did they offer material possessions, their sincere support soothed an indecisive soul. This was my home and these were my people. New bonds of friendship were forged that day whether the "forgees" were willing or not. I do not make friends easily nor have I ever had much need of them. I've realized, friends are not a need. They are a gift. I do not feel indebted to these people as their incredible sense of duty and pride prohibits me from feeling this. They would not want it this way thus I do not give it. I do, however, give my deepest gratitude, my offer of friendship and my sword at any time that they may ask. (I would even part with my new flowers for them. Whoaaa.
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So to my dear husband Thomas Duklain, Azzo Ranar, Loakie, Thomas, Angelica, Steel Amalas and Kalisten Vero...a thank you is not nearly enough. Not only for the items but for my newfound faith in my home.
