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- FANTASY! I need strong plot points to strive. I need open world sand box. I need things that keep me challenged and indulge me as a writer.
Built in a world of intrigue and masterful gaming, the brand new multiple player online rpg Quest Online unveiled and drew in Millions of players. After only hours of the game having been released, a grim reaper like appearance shown in the sky and announced that each and every one of the players was locked in a game of life and death. The only possible way to leave the game world created was to clear all of the Floors in the game and defeat the final boss at the end. he also in this moment; revealed that the world would not attempt to interfere because over 1,000 people had already died when officers and such attempted to remove the Visual head gear. This was the cherry on top for a lot of people, and from here everyone seemed to scatter and even in the first two weeks, over 6,000 players died without having defeated the first floor.
The game quickly became a setting where people mostly just settled down and took advantage of the very real life mechanisms that were allowed in the game. Every day people would go and gather what they could to make a living and sell to the npcs already scripted into the game. It was enough, and even with the group that formed to clear the first floor in a great many failed attempts; things had calmed down exponentially. One player within this world, a 22 yr old boy outside the game now masquerading around as a rough white haired boy with icy blue eyes happened to take a liking to his potential as a Blader. His style was odd and despite the obvious use of a shield being incredibly practical, he only used a shield in times of dire need, which soon as he met up with the spunky quick mouthed, and beautiful; Azmeryth, the times of danger came in like spring rain.
The Commander of the group known as "Guidance" suggested a large scale party move in to take on the World boss for the world, and drew in everyone, even Tirian and Azmeryth were persuaded. This was.. by far... the greatest mistake they had ever made, and under the command of Jurian of Guidance over 400 players found themselves face to face with a Stone Golem that formed from the hill, a crash of his might and like that before their eyes other players died out from underneath them. When they looked to Jurian they found his dust, for the Coward had run, and from that point On reluctant as he was Tirian stepped up to the plate and assumed the role that everyone needed. There was no defeating the creature, he knew that but with minimal casualties, on all but himself they survived the encounter, he and his friends and thus forth mysteriously Tirian got the name of "The Silver Haired Hero"
Opposition stirred in the people, even while Tirian tried his hardest to stay apart from it all. He often spent time with Azmeryth, as she seemed to be the only one he truly could relate with and get along with. Reapers were fairly solitary so he was also that for her. Tirian was the side dish that everyone wanted, while the Reaper was that stand alone meal that could handle itself, and in most cases did its best work alone. It didn't matter how they tried to avoid it all, the result was the same.
Tirian returned to the City of Grandia and was just in time for the public to have started rioting on Jurian. They blamed him for so much help, and were getting quite blood thirsty, a quirk in Jurian made him choose to target Tirian and forced to face off in front of everyone, Tirian humiliated the Two Hand sword Blader with ease. His skills were nothing, about as good as he talked honestly. The people recognized him instantly as the one that saved them in the recent struggle, and he had no choice but to finally embrace them, but not alone. He pulled Azmeryth from the crowd to stand by him as his partner, along with a few others who had acted well in that battle, and with strong words of hope he ushered them onward, it was time to break the first floor even if they were the only ones left.
Deep seeded memories from his first moments in the game wrought for Tirian to face his past and return to the First floor master dungeon. He knew it already, a secret he had kept from general public was his first group before he had become a mainly solo player. A group of strong fighters he trained with had attempted the Dungeon, and even then he had been a part of the main force. The boss was too much, they were not prepared and so they were dying, he watched several die on him right away, and was helpless to do anything for the sake of fear. He ran, warped from the place and continued to live while the others died. No report came in of the floor being cleared despite how he waited, and so eventually he was forced to accept that all but himself had died in that battle.
This time was different, With Azmeryth or (Azzy) as he had taken to calling her he felt strong again, brave and confident, that he would not allow any of them to die this time. The group was far bigger than it had been then, they had to clear this dungeon. The dungeon became routinely repetitive after a while and the group washed through each room as if it were nothing. The Shamans were slain first to avoid the hassle of Magic that they could not touch, and the range were to follow until they could pincer in and slay the fodder, it wasn't until the big boss room door that his anxiety began to kick in.
Just like it had been before, the Boss was laid out in the same way. The Goblins that supported him were the hassle they would need to take care of and so each of them split into groups while Tirian took a lead on facing the Boss and distracting him with a group of other Bladers. The battle became hard as people started losing their vantage points, and then out of nowhere a Cry of terror, and he turned to see the last few seconds of Azzy's tamed wolf, whom had been struck down. It came in waterfalls after that, people grew restless and rushed in getting stomped out when the Goblin Chieftan switched out his weapon for a quick blade like weapon and began to take them out one by one. Tirian and a few others fought him head on despite injuries, driven in rage, in fear and with a last hit landed by an outside source the Goblin fell, the doors at the end of the room were open.
Tirian didn't move, he was frozen in fear in disgust, a bile would have built within him if he could of actually puked at that moment, but the truth of it was, this was a game and there was no room for that. It had happened again, people had died with him at the center piece, and even though he stood before them, never had he run, it was under his command. Even she probably hated him now, her friend, her pet gone. Tirian looked to the others who looked at him with mixed intentions, some of them blamed him, he had lost some control here and ruined the perfect plan some. it was his fault, and he couldn't deny that; he had to vanish.
The people of Floor one continued on to enter a harsher enviroment on floor two, but with a much larger city. The people presumed to have vanished were here, 1,000's of people now finally accounted for, and the prospect of guilds. Tirian vanished, changing his clothes and somewhat his appearance, he went rogue and took up refuge in the southern villa for mining. he would be able to focus his craft this way and stay out of peoples hair, train when he wanted to, and on one side their was the path marked by trees and rivers, the other a Mountain Dungeon kept people at bay. Even still he found himself often wondering about his firey red headed friend, where had she gone to what life did she live now? Perhaps he would find out someday, only time would answer him.
"I will become a phantom of the hero that should have died twice already, a shadow of a martyr upon peoples hatred, for to hate a phantom or a shadow they show their true foolishness. The world is cruel, and so I will be that catalyst of cruelty and cold dispositionlest no one can ever be hurt by me again."
The game quickly became a setting where people mostly just settled down and took advantage of the very real life mechanisms that were allowed in the game. Every day people would go and gather what they could to make a living and sell to the npcs already scripted into the game. It was enough, and even with the group that formed to clear the first floor in a great many failed attempts; things had calmed down exponentially. One player within this world, a 22 yr old boy outside the game now masquerading around as a rough white haired boy with icy blue eyes happened to take a liking to his potential as a Blader. His style was odd and despite the obvious use of a shield being incredibly practical, he only used a shield in times of dire need, which soon as he met up with the spunky quick mouthed, and beautiful; Azmeryth, the times of danger came in like spring rain.
The Commander of the group known as "Guidance" suggested a large scale party move in to take on the World boss for the world, and drew in everyone, even Tirian and Azmeryth were persuaded. This was.. by far... the greatest mistake they had ever made, and under the command of Jurian of Guidance over 400 players found themselves face to face with a Stone Golem that formed from the hill, a crash of his might and like that before their eyes other players died out from underneath them. When they looked to Jurian they found his dust, for the Coward had run, and from that point On reluctant as he was Tirian stepped up to the plate and assumed the role that everyone needed. There was no defeating the creature, he knew that but with minimal casualties, on all but himself they survived the encounter, he and his friends and thus forth mysteriously Tirian got the name of "The Silver Haired Hero"
Opposition stirred in the people, even while Tirian tried his hardest to stay apart from it all. He often spent time with Azmeryth, as she seemed to be the only one he truly could relate with and get along with. Reapers were fairly solitary so he was also that for her. Tirian was the side dish that everyone wanted, while the Reaper was that stand alone meal that could handle itself, and in most cases did its best work alone. It didn't matter how they tried to avoid it all, the result was the same.
Tirian returned to the City of Grandia and was just in time for the public to have started rioting on Jurian. They blamed him for so much help, and were getting quite blood thirsty, a quirk in Jurian made him choose to target Tirian and forced to face off in front of everyone, Tirian humiliated the Two Hand sword Blader with ease. His skills were nothing, about as good as he talked honestly. The people recognized him instantly as the one that saved them in the recent struggle, and he had no choice but to finally embrace them, but not alone. He pulled Azmeryth from the crowd to stand by him as his partner, along with a few others who had acted well in that battle, and with strong words of hope he ushered them onward, it was time to break the first floor even if they were the only ones left.
Deep seeded memories from his first moments in the game wrought for Tirian to face his past and return to the First floor master dungeon. He knew it already, a secret he had kept from general public was his first group before he had become a mainly solo player. A group of strong fighters he trained with had attempted the Dungeon, and even then he had been a part of the main force. The boss was too much, they were not prepared and so they were dying, he watched several die on him right away, and was helpless to do anything for the sake of fear. He ran, warped from the place and continued to live while the others died. No report came in of the floor being cleared despite how he waited, and so eventually he was forced to accept that all but himself had died in that battle.
This time was different, With Azmeryth or (Azzy) as he had taken to calling her he felt strong again, brave and confident, that he would not allow any of them to die this time. The group was far bigger than it had been then, they had to clear this dungeon. The dungeon became routinely repetitive after a while and the group washed through each room as if it were nothing. The Shamans were slain first to avoid the hassle of Magic that they could not touch, and the range were to follow until they could pincer in and slay the fodder, it wasn't until the big boss room door that his anxiety began to kick in.
Just like it had been before, the Boss was laid out in the same way. The Goblins that supported him were the hassle they would need to take care of and so each of them split into groups while Tirian took a lead on facing the Boss and distracting him with a group of other Bladers. The battle became hard as people started losing their vantage points, and then out of nowhere a Cry of terror, and he turned to see the last few seconds of Azzy's tamed wolf, whom had been struck down. It came in waterfalls after that, people grew restless and rushed in getting stomped out when the Goblin Chieftan switched out his weapon for a quick blade like weapon and began to take them out one by one. Tirian and a few others fought him head on despite injuries, driven in rage, in fear and with a last hit landed by an outside source the Goblin fell, the doors at the end of the room were open.
Tirian didn't move, he was frozen in fear in disgust, a bile would have built within him if he could of actually puked at that moment, but the truth of it was, this was a game and there was no room for that. It had happened again, people had died with him at the center piece, and even though he stood before them, never had he run, it was under his command. Even she probably hated him now, her friend, her pet gone. Tirian looked to the others who looked at him with mixed intentions, some of them blamed him, he had lost some control here and ruined the perfect plan some. it was his fault, and he couldn't deny that; he had to vanish.
The people of Floor one continued on to enter a harsher enviroment on floor two, but with a much larger city. The people presumed to have vanished were here, 1,000's of people now finally accounted for, and the prospect of guilds. Tirian vanished, changing his clothes and somewhat his appearance, he went rogue and took up refuge in the southern villa for mining. he would be able to focus his craft this way and stay out of peoples hair, train when he wanted to, and on one side their was the path marked by trees and rivers, the other a Mountain Dungeon kept people at bay. Even still he found himself often wondering about his firey red headed friend, where had she gone to what life did she live now? Perhaps he would find out someday, only time would answer him.
"I will become a phantom of the hero that should have died twice already, a shadow of a martyr upon peoples hatred, for to hate a phantom or a shadow they show their true foolishness. The world is cruel, and so I will be that catalyst of cruelty and cold dispositionlest no one can ever be hurt by me again."
