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Morningstar

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Everything posted by Morningstar

  1. Morningstar was becoming tired of his ragged brown replacement cloak. It worked as it was supposed to but he missed his old green one. Nevertheless, he tossed it over his shoulders before teleporting to the sixteenth floor. He had heard tales of a quest, made for swashbucklers like himself, where one could travel the seas in search of treasure and adventure. Finally, the opportunity for Morningstar to live out his pirate dreams had arrived. He stepped off the teleportation pad, eyes attached to the small translucent screen in front of him. The message he had received from his friend had only v
  2. It had been a while since Morningstar had put on a suit and still, it felt as natural as ever. Tonight, there was no photo shoot or movie premiere, however. It was for his own enjoyment, which was rarely the case. He toyed around in a mirror, adjusting his collar to his liking. Originally, he had intended on wearing a tie with the outfit but it made him look like he was applying for a loan. He dropped a few buttons until he felt comfortable with his appearance. He quite liked the suit he had picked out. The subtle stripes were just enough to give it some character, while the red complimented h
  3. They stood a few feet from the inn, going over their options. Despite failing to discover any new information, they were unwilling to quit. "Do you think he knows that we're tracking him? He could have already left," Joaquin said. "We've been careful, so I doubt it," Morningstar replied, "I say we ask around town a bit more. If he's not here, then we can pick up a quest or something. It'll take a while to find him again anyway." Joaquin nodded and they continued through the town. They spoke to countless players and NPCs that they passed, hoping to get even a crumb of informatio
  4. Joaquin stumbled forwards, grumbling to himself as he transferred the col to the NPC. The old man shut his magazine and slid it to the side. He was finally ready to talk, now that he had been paid for his trouble. He motioned for the picture and Morningstar handed it to him. Holding it close as he adjusted his glasses, the innkeeper took his time remembering whether or not he had seen the man. Eventually, he shrugged and handed the drawing back to the blonde. "Not much of an artist," the old man said, crossing his arms. Morningstar, who thought himself a decent artist, felt offended.
  5. "This is the place," Morningstar said, wiping the gathering sweat from his forehead. "You ever been to this floor?" Joaquin replied. "Nope." "Too hot?" "Yep." The pair followed the main street of Knorilt Village, eyeing up the civilians as they passed. A sulfurous scent bombarded their noses and their pace hastened. Knorilt was new to them both and yet they were already prepared to leave. If they were not on a mission, they would never have come at all. If he had one col for every tavern they passed, Morningstar would be in the top five wealthiest people in Aincrad. It
  6. As he explored the tower, his footsteps loud within the collapsed space, he noticed a small glimmer amidst the debris. Intrigued, he approached the pile of rubble and began carefully sifting through it, his fingers brushing against broken stone and twisted metal. With each movement, anticipation grew within him. And then his hand closed around a solid, cold object. Pulling it free from its hiding place, he marveled at what he had found—a weapon. It was a gleaming silver sword with a beautifully crafted hilt, adorned with intricate engravings. The blade's metal was dull, however, and Morni
  7. He searched and searched for anything of value. Broken furniture and shattered glass littered the floor, remnants of a time now passed. Curiosity drew him towards a partially collapsed cabinet tucked away in a corner, its contents obscured by debris. With cautious movements, he popped open the cabinet door. In the back, untouched for a long while, sat a vial, unscathed and nestled within a small compartment. Carefully, he picked it up, examining the liquid inside. It was hard to tell what it was just by the color. Happy with his find, he stowed the potion safely in his inventory, exc
  8. He wandered a while until he was reasonably far from the safe zone. A tower, which had now mostly crumbled away, sat in his path. The first floor remained accessible, so he decided to take a peek inside. It was dark but his Night Vision skill came in handy. He scanned the room from left to right, identifying points of interest and confirming that nothing was about to jump out and attack him. It seemed clear and he immediately noticed the piece of armor sitting on the table in the center. It was a simple, silver chest piece with no adornments or anything of that sort. It was not his style
  9. Morningstar was not surprised by the fact he would have to find the items himself. He had done similar quests in the past and they were never too much trouble. He nodded in agreement and a small white screen popped up in front of him, giving him the decision to accept the quest. He pressed the blue button with a smile, excited to start his journey into appraising. The quest prompt disappeared. "Be back in a bit," he said to the shop owner, leaving the shop and returning to the busy streets of the town. As quickly as he could, he rushed towards the front gate. He tried his best not to
  10. Another sunny day in the Town of Beginnings. Morningstar stepped out of the inn where he had been staying. It was early and the sky was a mix of red and blue hues. Today, he was on a mission. He wiped his weary eyes and, wrapping himself in a ratty old cloak, he ventured off into the street. His eyes wandered between shops as he searched for one in particular. It took some time but, eventually, he found it. A small, wooden store sat at the edge of the road. A pair of customers exited just as he got there, talking about a special enhancement they had received on a sword. Morningstar c
  11. "Coming right up," Dante said, turning from the pair to grab a few bottles from the shelves behind him. The stranger began speaking to Morningstar, a hint of enthusiasm in his voice as he curiously questioned life on the higher floors. The blonde obliged his questions, interested in his new acquaintance as well. "Each floor is different. They all have individual histories and themes to them. I'm sure you've already guessed that the difficulty of the monsters is consistently increased as you climb but if you stay within the safe zones, even you could take a look," Morningstar smiled b
  12. Morningstar turned his head upon hearing the sounds of another player taking a seat at the bar. His initial assessment of the man was that he was inexperienced; it was possible that he had never left the walls of the Town of Beginnings at all. Morningstar held no judgment towards the stranger. It had not been long since he was in that position himself. The player had snow-white hair that puzzled Morningstar. He was sure that it had been dyed. Either way, he thought it suited him well. His attention returned to the bar, noticing the door to the back swing open. Out popped an older gentlema
  13. Town of Beginnings - Floor 1 Silence was rare in the Town of Beginnings. If you looked hard enough, however, you could find it. That's just what Morningstar had done. Somewhere between the market and housing districts, he found an empty street. His raggedy brown cloak was draped over his shoulders, shading him from the sun. He missed his old green one but did not regret giving it away. After all, the elf he had lent it to needed it far more than he did. He swiped his hand, his menu popping up in front of him. He liked quiet places but still enjoyed the company of others. Cyclin
  14. The hot springs group had grown to a fair size in the time since Morningstar had arrived. To Yona's comment about "moving too quickly," he replied with a not-so-serious smirk and wink. He zoned out for some time, listening to the split conversations that were happening around him. He welcomed Astreya and Astralin with a lazy peace sign, warm water dripping from his weary hand, and then returned to a semi-conscious state nearly beneath the water. His brain, tired from the day and fried from the heat, was not sure how long they had been in the pool. It fell somewhere between twelve minutes and t
  15. How much time had passed before his arrival and Elwood’s return to the living room was a mystery to him. He funneled back in, a small tray in his hands. On top sat an ornate teapot and two cups. It was rare to see the man dressed in anything that did not look kingly. Morningstar wondered if he was one of the few who had seen it. "I hope you don't take honey or anything. I'm afraid I'm all out." "I'm sure it's fine how it is," Morningstar smiled. Elwood poured tea for the both of them. He was slow and precise, in the same way he was in all aspects of life. He hated to rush. Earl
  16. They stepped into the safe zone, backtracking toward the spot where Tythen and Morningstar had met. Morningstar recognized the elf immediately, huddled at the edge of the street. He was covered in the same cloak as before and he looked a bit cold. The moment he saw Fonsa, Tythen drew his weary wife into a fierce embrace. Over her shoulder, he mouthed "Thank you." When they finally drew apart, the grateful elf wrapped an arm around Fonsa's shoulders, holding her tight to his side. "I cannot thank you enough for bringing my Fonsa back safely. You have already done so much, but if you would
  17. "There's honor in that. What is your name?" Fonsa asked. "Morningstar." "I'm grateful to you, Morningstar." He took another bite of his apple. It was sweet and firm. He hated soft apples. They lacked all of the qualities that he thought made apples decent fruit. They weren't crisp, they were never as juicy, and they just felt bad to eat. He had chosen these two well, he thought. He tossed it to the side of the path when he had eaten all that he could. "We're here," he said, coming to a stop outside of the gate. She looked at him briefly. "Do you have a spare cloak?"
  18. "Want something to eat?" Morningstar asked. They were close to the city but he thought he would offer anyway. They had both had long days. With a swish of his hand, a blue screen opened inches from his face. He tapped different sections of it and, suddenly, an apple formed in each hand. It wasn't much—he knew that—but it would do the trick. He stuck one out to Fonsa and she took it graciously. "Thank you," she said. "It's no problem." Morningstar didn't mind gaps in conversation but these didn't feel like gaps. They were like voids. He bit into the apple, the satisfying cru
  19. They walked the first stretch of the way back to town in silence. Morningstar's hood was up once again but now his face was more visible. They passed through the dead wasteland at a slow pace so that Fonsa could keep up despite her injuries. "Why come here?" Morningstar asked. She said nothing in response, her eyes kept on the road ahead. "I saw the treasure. You didn't take any though, so that's not it." Still, he received nothing but silence. "Did you at least find what you were looking for?" "No," Fonsa said, finally. Morningstar could not tell whether she
  20. Morningstar's blade burned gold for only a brief moment as he made his final attack. Fonsa stayed low while Meteor arced in a bright wave, hitting both of the stags simultaneously. The stumbled for a moment, bright red pixels falling from their wounds, before shattering into a storm of blue. He rushed to Fonsa's side, looking down at the drop they would need to take. She could not have made it alone but with him there to help, Fonsa would be fine. Morningstar crept down the few stairs that remained and leaped down to the sixth floor. "I'll catch you," he told Fonsa. Skeptical, F
  21. The wounded stag swung at Morningstar with its horns but it was too slow to come close to hitting Morningstar. He had weakened it enough for it to become far less of a threat than it had been before. He used this chance to retrieve his sword by grabbing hold of the hilt and using a leg to help pull it from the stag's chest where it was stuck. This angered the stag even more, causing it to lash out in a flurry of weakened attacks. Morningstar dodged and blocked them all with ease. Fonsa had made it to the stairs but looked down hesitantly at the drop. Morningstar looked at her in between a
  22. Morningstar cursed and let go of his weapon, leaving it with the dying stag. He rushed to Fonsa's side and watched as a pair of heavy antlers closed in on them. He stood in front of her now, the hood of his cloak falling and revealing a blonde mess and amber eyes. Crazed, the stag swung its horns wildly. Morningstar felt a stabbing sensation in his abdomen. He had taken the brunt of the damage, but Fonsa was not left unscathed. She lay on the ground, clutching her arm in pain. The stag tried stomping on her with its hooves but Morningstar threw a pair of quick punches at it, forcing it to
  23. Morningstar jolted at the stag he had knocked back. The glow of his blade became less and less faint as he charged forwards, preparing to unleash his most powerful attack. He pulled the sword back and then thrust it into the stag's chest. From behind, Fonsa had returned from her unconscious state. She stood valiantly, determined to help Morningstar. Hearing her footsteps, he rotated to face her the best he could with the sword still deep in the beast's chest. He motioned to her to back up, but she continued to hobble towards him, dagger in hand. The other stag was now capable of moving on
  24. The stag ripped its antlers from the wall, charging forwards without aim. It went into a frenzy; the bloodthirst was clear in its eyes. Fonsa was directly in its path. If he was not quick, she'd be trampled by the beast. Morningstar jumped in its way, using his sword to hold back the stag's attack. His blade stuck to the stag's tough antlers, unable to damage them but strong enough to stop it from killing Fonsa. He peaked back to look at the woman, unable to tell if she was still conscious. He groaned as the stag pushed harder but didn't lose balance. Then, he pushed back, breaking its poise a
  25. What went through the stag's mind as it stepped past the other that lay in the dust? Did it worry for a friend or had its curse made it emotionless? It didn't matter. Morningstar gasped, still exhausted from the climb. The stag moved slowly, more cautiously than its partner. He pushed forward, gritting his teeth as he swung his heavy sword upward. The stag dodged to the left, stabbing at Morningstar with its antlers. Star deflected the attempt with the flat end of his blade. As they fought, he'd turn his head periodically to check on Fonsa. She was in a bad state and at this rate, he wasn
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