Applesauce Day Event

Go to the Field: Delta, Eventually Crazy Overlord Snap. The field is designed to resemble an orchard. However, none of the rows of trees actually will bear fruit. There are lv.9 monsters called Apple Treeclaws that bear apples. They resemble normal trees and don’t move. However, they release toxic gasses and attack with vines. Unlike their name, they don’t actually have claws. You must either defeat one of these creatures to acquire the forbidden fruit or steal one from it. You can even try bargaining with it if you’d like, one out of every ten Apple Treeclaws has a human operator controlling it directly. Not all values are equal, but you’ll need to figure out which apple to choose. Your inventory cannot store more than a single piece of fruit. Once you’ve obtained your apple, leave.

Then you must depart for: Theta, Blessed Cow Train. The field is a barren wasteland for the most part. A large factory overlooks the deepest valley. Inside of the factory are a series of shops. These different shops sell a single product each. The Riddle Shop requires you to pose a tricky riddle that the shopkeeper cannot answer. If you succeed, you’ll earn Ball Jars (12) for the cost of just 1GP. The Pot Shop sells what it sounds like, pairs of pots. Large pots can be brought for 200gp a pair or can be substituted with heavy head armor. A jar grabber can be substituted with a Long Arm weapon of lv.4 or higher. If you wish to buy a jar grabber, you can buy one from the Sword Shop. The Sword Shop will give you the jar grabber for 2gp if you can show the shopkeeper a heavyblade or blademaster sword of lv.2 or higher. The Hojik shop sells lid lifters for 500gp. A Heavy Axe can perform a feat of strength for a free lid lifter, while anyone else needs to perform a dance in order to acquire one for just 30gp. The Funnel Cake shop also gives out a Jar Funnel to anyone who will light their oven on fire for them. If not, it costs 1500gp. There is a Magic Shop that trades a Large Spoon for any lv.1 elemental scroll.

Following that, go to Sigma, Baking Desperate Frying Pot. Every fire monster in the game is at this field. Any monster that is killed there will leave behind a treasure chest. You will find Cinnamon inside of the box. The quality of the Cinnamon depends on the relationship between your level and that of the monster that was slain. The more suicidal the ratio for you, the better the product.

Even if you die in any of these fields, you may reenter them to try again without losing the items you had gathered so far.

You need all of the following items to make the best applesauce possible:
Apple-x1
Ball Jar-x12
Pots-x2
Jar Grabber-x1
Lid Lifter-x1
Large Spoon-x1
Jar Funnel-x1
Cinnamon-x1 chest’s worth
You may find other items necessary. If so, go find them on your own. Use whatever method you’d like to create your masterpiece of a meal. The Armory in every Root Town has a kitchen, use it.

Drop your applesauce off in a dish at the Pawn Shop (ooc:still in this thread, don’t post this in the pawn shop) with your name so your final product may be judged.

Ooc:This event runs from today until August 9th at 10PM EST. Post in this thread. You can do it in a single post or multiple posts. And yes, we’re finally doing this event. You knew it would happen eventually…right? PM me questions only. I'll add them to this post with the answers once I get the chance. Start posting.

*****

Q:Can mainers partake?
A:Yes.

Q:How is it decided on whether or not a tree has a human operator in the first field?
A:The writer decides.

Q:Different kind of apples?
A:This just helps provide IC reasons who will win...since it really comes down to creativity, quality, etc.

Q:Does the method decide the apple?
A:Sort of...but its not like I'll post...And Hacorie earned a Silver Apple. Its not as much which way you choose...but how you do it.

Q:what are the fabulous rewards, a tasty thing of applesauce?
A:You'll all see...by not telling you all it gives me more control depending on how well you do.

Q:Can we participate even if we are already in a quest?
A:Yes. If that wasn't true...we'd never have anyone try an event.

Q:How much would a jar grabber be for its normal price?
A:2gp if you can show the owner a heavy blade or blademaster sword.
Q:Can you buy either class' sword even if you aren't that class?
A:Yes...or just borrow one from someone.

Q:I was wondering, what's the strongest fire monster in the World?
A:I don't know, look it up.

Q:in the Riddle Shop, do we say if the owner can't solve it? Or do we send the riddle to someone and if they can't figure it out then we use that?
A:The first was the way I figured...but feel free to do both if you really want to.

Q:If You drop 1 sauce off at the pawn, can you go and make another or is 1 the limit?
A:No...and if you have that much free time...add more detail to the first one.

Q:Is it possible for us to have your friends help us? (as in: NPC friend)
A:Nope, though you could drag your grunty along.

Q:Are the sieves provided for us in the kitchen?
A:Anything I don't make you hunt down is given there, yes.

'It's here!'

Ashura's mind was buzzing with excitement as he warped into the Root Town, his cloak flapping wildly by the wind emitting from the frenzy of people dashing along the root town. When DeOndre had opened his desktop, a notice for an event had caught his attention in the Mailbox. A Special Event that the CC. Corporation was hosting, something that had to do with th ecreation of AppleSauce. He was not a chef, but the fact that Servers and fields that he was usually not able to reach was now ope nto his enjoyment was extremely satisfying.

Bringing up the list of items that he needed to collect and the areas where he could find the items, Ashura turned to Chaos Gate and breathed in deeply, calming himself before setting out to do the item hunt.

"Eventually Crazy Overlord Snap!"

The Chaos Gate jumped to life when it heard the special keywords being spoken and warped Ashura to the field. Upon arrival, Ashura gaped at the limitless row of trees that surrounded him, narrow pathways that were shrouded with darkness by looming trees crowding around, branches that should've held fruit twisted and corrupted from unknown causes.

"Spooky place..." Ashura whispered, drawing his sword. A place that looked like this was bound to have a few monsters lurking in a few undisclosed corners...

Stepping over the gnarle roots of an old fruit tree, the Blademaster calmly walked and searched for the item in which he searched of, a solitary apple from which his uber-sauce will emerge from. His thoughts dancing with the thought of making some pretty good sauce, he was unaware of the vines creeping up behind him, ready to wrap around his neck and leg...

Viscera logged into the world, intent on another day of questing. He had noticed the post about a special event called Applesauce Day, and it intrigued him. I get to make some applesauce...I am good at that! I am going to win for sure. Even before he went anywhere though he had to ask a friend a favor. Viscera sent out a quick PM to his friend Darkside, and awaited his response. In the mean time, he went about looking to see if he needed anything. Lemme see, a heavy blade sword. Maybe. A lv.1 scroll? Maybe. Flint and granite? Check. I think I am set. As Viscera headed up to the Chaos Gate, he noticed Darkside standing by. The trade was made, and Darkside went on his merry way. Viscera waltzed up to the Chaos Gate, and departed for his first destination. "Eventually Crazy Overlord Snap!"

As he appeared in the field, all he noticed was row upon row of apple trees. Makes sense. Where else could you get an apple. He wandered around for a minute, making sure there were no wandering enemies. Having seen none, Viscera went to the nearest tree and attempted to grab the fruit. The branches were too far up for Viscera's gigantic reach, and his attempts were futile. Maybe if I jump... Viscera leapt at one of the tree's forbidden fruit, only to get caught in midair. What the... His gaze fell upon a vine holding him up, and another one was coming in for an attack. A monster tree?! This is like the Wizard of Oz. Viscera unsheathed his axe and took a swing at the incoming vine, cutting it clean in two. Next, he tore the vine holding him up away from the rest of the tree in one mighty tug. As he fell in a heap on the hard ground below, more vines grabbed at him and started pulling him towards the tree. Viscera glanced at the tree, and didn't like what he saw.

The monster tree, identified by his screen as Apple Treeclaw, was spewing out noxious poison fumes. If I get stuck in there, there is no way I am getting out. Viscera began to hack and slash at the vines in a desperate attempt to get away. He tried sliding out, but more vines grabbed him. Desperate times call for desperate measures. "Gan Zot!" A rock formation rose beneath the vines, snapping them all and creating a barricade between the tree and Viscera. It took some time for his SP to refill, but the boulders provided enough of a shield to hold off the monster's attacks. When his SP was full, Viscera went on the offensive.

Viscera dashed from behind his hiding place and swung far out to avoid any vines. As he approached the back of the tree, more vines came at him. I am ready for you this time. Viscera hopped over the encroaching vines, and pinned them to the ground with his massive girth. He lifted his axe and swung in on the beast. "Triple Wield!" The tree was nearly cut in half, and began leaning to one side. Now I can reach the apples! The vines underneath him shriveled, crumpled, and then disappeared. As he was reaching for one of the fruits, he noticed blood dripping out of the tree. Why hasn't it evaporated yet? Viscera used his strength to topple the tree over, and inside was a NPC controlling the tree. "Why did you cut me?! What is wrong with you?!" Ooops! Viscera hastily picked a bronze apple off a fallen branch and teleported out of the field.

bbbbrrrriiiinnngggg...

Joss looked up at the clock. Amazed that it was 2:30 already he got up out of his chair. Stretching he looked over to see what the girl he had a huge crush on was doing. It seemed she was packing her books into her backpack.

"Not today Joss."

Joss' friend Kade had come up behind him and laid his hand on Joss' shoulder.

"Youch! I told you not to touch me there."

Last Thursday Joss had played in the football game for his school. Although it was a win he wasn't so enthusiastic about it because his shoulder had gotten broken in the process.

"Dude, I'm ready to ask her."

"Oh really? Fine then far be it from me to impede your love life."

"You’re in a good mood today what's up?"

Joss said looking quizzically at Kade.

"Have you forgotten already? It's the beginning of the applesauce day event on The World."

"Shoot, really? Fine I guess Nicole will have to wait then."

As Joss and Kade walked home together, Joss wondered what CC corp. had thought of now. Walking down the street Joss looked at the sad scene that lay before him. Meth addicts and alcoholics roamed the streets. Litter was everywhere and no one seemed to care. After Kade got his house Joss had to walk home alone. Seeing no reason to keep Kade waiting he ran home. After walking through the front door his mom gave him the usual speech of how he had to do chores and what not. Feeling depressed by his surroundings Joss logged in to the world.

User Name: Kuishen
Password: *******

Logging in....

Welcome to The World.

Kuishen couldn't help feel a sense of relief knowing he was no longer attached to reality. Stepping out onto the cobble stone path he looked around for Kade's avatar.

"Dangit, he must've gone on without me."

Angry at his impatient friend Kuishen hastily walked over to the hovering Chaos Gate. Knowing the keywords for the event was easy. All he had to do was look around because it was plastered all over the place. Events were to few and far between. So when one happened everyone had to make a big deal about it.

"Eventually Crazy Overlord Snap!"

Immediately the yellow rings formed over his head and transported him to the event field. Not knowing what was in store for him Kuishen just hoped it wasn't going to be too hard.

"I wonder where the monsters are?" Ashura said aloud, bored with this static, but pleasant, walk through the orcid. He got his answer a moment later when a sharp vine wrapped around his throat and pulled backwards, causing the Blademaster to be off-balance as another vine latched onto his foot.

'Idiot! If the only thing you can see is trees, then it seems kinda obvious that the monsters are gonna be a tree!"

Clutching at the vine with one hand and reaching for his sword with another, he struggled wildly in midair. The attacking vines came from a tree ten feet back, the bark contorted in a facial expression of pure rage. Even as he stared at the bark, a multitude of vines slithered across the forest floor, eager to taste human meat.

'N-no fucking way...'

His hand clasped down around his swords hilt, but a vine reached out and bound his arm just as his sword was almost free from the sheath. It was looking bad, and getting worse with each passing second. The sky overhead was darkening as a blanket of vines latched together to create a blanket of thorns.

Concentrating his mind, Ashura willed a change of swords and felt the hilt of Rondo come to be. With his sword in hand, Ashura cried out "Rondo!" and broke free of the vines strangling him in a whirlwind of swords. Falling down to the ground, coughing heavily, Ashura dived roll as another barriage of vines shot out from the gaps between the living trees, all eager to disembowel the resisting human.

"No way I am going to be caught by you guys again!" Ashura bellowed, concentrating on his ice spell Rue Kruz. Chunks of ice hovered in mid air around himself, having not receieved a specific target in which to attack. With a stern expression, he launched another round of Rondo and shattered the ice chunks into small projectiles, which he forced to spread in all directions. The vines were ripped apart without mercy, and the deep bellow told of a few of the owner hit by the combo attack spell.

"Hehehe..." Ashura chuckled, snearing at the pain imbedded within the moans. Moments later, a thick plume of purplish gas began to spill out from all directions, the grass underfoot going from life-nurturing green to the black color of death.

'Give me a break...'

As the gas neared, Ashura activated his revolver for the third time and acted as a fan, forcing the gas to reverse direction and dissipate. As he slowed, he spot a solitary apple hanging off a tree branch about fifteen feet to the north of his current location. Using a Speed Charm on himself, he sprinted, listening to the sound of bombrushing vines as the tried to stop his attack on the tree with the fruit.

"Not this time!" the Blademaster said, launching a Rue Zot spell behind his running form, freezing/skewering most vines in their tracks, and casting a combo of Juk Rom and Rue Kruz to his front, destroying the ones emerging from his target. Within three feet, he leapt into the air and cut down a piece of fruit from its branch, the tree below him roaring in anger that he had acquired its forbidden treasure. Within moments, all movement ceased in the orcid, once again adopting the illusion of tranquility.

"Blah to all of you for trying to kill me!" Ashura said, packing his newly won item carefully. Taking out his copy of the rules, he warped back to the Root Town of Mac Anu, preparing for his next destination.

Another event.....time for some fun in my life.

Traveling around out of boredom, a Heavy Blade dropped down in the city of Mac Anu. As the three golden rings diminished and left him alone to have his fun, he noticed that some mass numbers of players were gathered around a titanic billboard with a man on it speaking. His jolly tone could lift anyone’s spirits if they were feeling down. Almost bursting out laughing, the Heavy Blade character walked near the billboard gently shoving people out of the way to take a gander at it himself. Listening to the stereotypical Santa Claus like voice, Hacorie became intrigued as it went on spouting babble about what was about to happen. Another event was finally taking place in “The World”. It had been a long time since a sponsored event had taken place that everyone could participate in. Almost now chuckling, Hacorie stayed in ‘his’ spot and continued to listen until the man finished.

“Welcome all players of “The World”. Another event has finally come to celebrate the lovely day of applesauce. Yes, that is right. I said Applesauce. That means exactly what you think. You have to make applesauce. This task is no ordinary one though. Hahaha. No, like other events, it will be challenging for all level players. Everyone, check your Flashmail boxes in 3....2....1.....*snap*. There is what your first task is to complete. Once the first is done, you will receive another Flashmail explaining what to do next. Good luck to all and Thank You for playing and taking interest in “The World” Hahaha.” As the jolly man finished, his holographic figure disappeared. Now having a Flashmail, Hacorie was ready to stock up on any items he made need for a special event since there was no telling what may lie ahead.

All events had some parts that were dangerous, but to make an event for applesauce made it seem like this event would be harder than anyone knew. Walking toward the shop part of town, Hacorie heard the blaring sound of people gating out of Mac Anu and most likely into the event field. Turning around, the Heavy Blade saw that no one was left around the billboard, but the jolly man had reappeared and was explaining again to the ‘crowd’. At the bridge that connected the two parts of Mac Anu, Hacorie took a right and slowly made his way into a small shop filled with items and scrolls everywhere. The floor was completely made of glyphs on pieces of paper which seemed to be stuck there by an unknown substance, most likely glue. Man, someone could make this place explode if they had enough SP. Making his way to a counter, also covered with glyphs, Hacorie glanced around looking for the scrolls he wanted. Finally he spotted them in a nice cubby beside the desk.

The two types of scrolls were incidently right next to each other. The first was Ice Storm. It was a level one spell scroll that used Rue Rom on an opponent. The other was also a level one water scroll. It was called Ice Floe. This scroll was Rue Kruz. Taking into account, his need for scrolls, Hacorie set five of each on the counter along with two thousand GP. Also glancing around a bit more, Hacorie picked up a few health drinks and threw them on the counter along with five hundred GP. Then, he picked up 2 Mage’s Souls and set them on the counter as well which was another one thousand GP. All together, Hac’s total came to three thousand five hundred GP. A mere penny in all his money that he had accumulated over time playing “The World”. After finishing his shopping adventure in the scroll shop, the Heavy Blade headed around town to other shops. He just browsed in them to see if any new armor or weapon updates were available. To his dismay, none were.

Hacorie was now ready to go to the designated field to do whatever task was set before him. Hacorie clicked his Flashmail box and opened the Flashmail from the hologram. As Hacorie read it, he looked for hidden meanings in his first task, but in the end he decided there were none at all. This task seemed quite straight forward. All the Heavy Blade needed to do was get an apple from a tree, an attacking tree. The description of the tree reminded him of the Whomping Willow tree from the Harry Potter books, but that tree liked hitting people with branches instead of vines. Laughing at his comparison, internally, Hacorie started making his way back to the Chaos Gate. Looking over his shoulder a bit, Hacorie ducked into an alley way and quickly made his way to the secret hideout in the Mac Anu Server. Inside, he quickly took all equipment he had left there and stored it in his pouch. Hacorie did this because he wanted to be prepared for anything that came along.

Now with everything prepared, Hacorie equipped the best armor for tree killing that he had. For a weapon, Hacorie chose his Steeler for its Gan Drive capabilities. Trees were wood elemental beasts so they were weak against earth. Next, Hacorie changed to his guard cap which enabled him to summon upon the healing spell Repth, just in case. Following that, he changed his Holy Tree Mail to Grand Armor. It gave Hacorie Ap Ganz which increased the power of the earth elements. For an earth spell, Hacorie equipped his old Miner’s Gloves. Lastly, Hac strapped on his mountain boots. They had Ap Corv which was a physical booster spell. Now that he was completely ready, Hacorie glanced at his Flashmail for the keywords that would send him to the field.

Delta, Eventually Crazy Overlord Snap....Haha, it seems like the administrators have finally lost it. To name the field that seems a bit acentric even for them. They must have had people interrogate and pester them to create the event. My theory is they finally had enough and snapped themselves in two while melting their brain in a pot of boiling water which created the field. Only one way to find out though.....Wait.....do I really want to do this? Of Course I do for I am Hacorie and I cannot get enough rare items, and rare items come from special events like this. Rare Itemus here I come.

Now done conversing with himself on so many wrong levels, Hacorie brushed off his cloak and put up his hood where only the glowing blue aura of his eyes could be seen. His skater-like blond hair was now completely concealed until the time came to fight. Then and only then would the Heavy blade uncloak himself to show that three who is boss. Smirking from ear to ear, the Heavy Blade thought the keywords to the field as he neared the brilliantly colored Chaos Gate.

Delta, Eventually Crazy Overlord Snap

Three gigantic golden rings emerged from the ground and slowly started to scan the Heavy Blade. Up and down they went at increasing speeds. One ring was slower than the next though, so they all sped up at the same rate to keep the same amount of distance between them. It was like watching a game of cat and mouse(aka Chase) where there was no end. The game would go on to eternity. Finally, the top ring reached Hac’s head once again, but instead of going back to his feet it disappeared. Once the other two also followed in its footstep, Hacorie closed his eyes as a violent gust of wind blew at him which seemed to envelop his body. As he opened his eyes, Hacorie looked at his feet to see particles of data, one at a time, breaking off from his body and sending it into the data stream to where he wanted to go. Closing his eyes again, Hacorie waited for the noises to change around him.

What… the hell…. Is THIS?

Nighthand re-read the flyer in his hands for the fifth time, wondering what could have happened in the minds of the CCCorp Admins to make them, well, go insane.

Well, you should know there have been a number of events you’ve missed since you joined this game… You’ve been too busy fighting all the hackers to notice the flyers around town, but this is far from the strangest one out there.

I guess… but still, applesauce creation? And why did I, of all people, get an invitation to it?

Silverblade was silent on this one. Despite the additional perceptions he had, he was still as clueless as Nighthand was.

Well… Should I participate? This flyer doesn’t say anything about rewards…

Well, you could use a vacation from the normal life-or-death battling… I say go for it.

Applesauce it is.

Nighthand went over his inventory quickly, checking to make sure his items were all in order. His scroll stock was getting low, but in a widespread event like this he shouldn’t need too many of them. He had all his swords tucked away, everything looked in order. It was time to go to the field.

”Delta, Eventually Crazy Overlord Snap” he muttered to the gate, letting the rings fall down and carry him away.

* * *

“Crazy Admins….” Nighthand was still muttering as he appeared in the field a moment later. He drew his Corona Blade and propped it on his shoulder, looking around.

Row upon row of trees stretched out in the distance. He seemed to have landed in an area of relative brightness, wide open spaces between the trees and enough sunlight to allow him to see their attack coming easily. Looking in the distance he could see not all such areas were the same; some further on down the line were crowded, dense and dark. I did not envy the low-level player caught among them.

For himself, however, the trees were easy. Being level 50 held a few advantages, it seemed.

The trees reminded him of the numerous arborphiliacs he had known. Kurai and his magnificent Treeweaver was foremost in his mind. The long arm had a way with plants that left others in awe around him. It was unfortunate that his spear, made from his own spear and that of his evil, hacker-created clone, was evil in itself.

He recalled the fight against Kurai; at least the little he has been in. The sheer power of juk permeating the area at that time had given him pause. Now, he could have handled it much better, but even now the long arm’s final gasps had been powerful. He had, after all, Pked his way up to level 84.

And yet it was with such seeming ease that Royce killed him and stole his spear. The hacker had no end of power, it seemed. And now that magnificent, powerful, evil spear was in the hands of the equally magnificent, powerful, and evil long arm Xenobia.

Accursed hackers! Would they ever leave his thoughts, even on such a strange and unusual event such as this?

Putting all thoughts of the past and future to the side, Nighthand headed a short distance into the orchard.

The Flashmail he had received chime with additions to his situation. It seemed it would update as need took hold to tell him where he had to go and what he had to do next.

The trees around you are known as Apple Treeclaws. They are a formidable level 9, and release highly toxic gasses. They also attack with vines. You must obtain an apple from one, however you so desire. Even a deal is not out of the question, for one in every ten is manned by a human operator.

”Well I CERTAINLY didn’t figure that one out for myself…” Nighthand grinned. ”Formidable level nine, eh? Should be fun.”

Choosing a tree at random from the four or five clustered around him, Nighthand strode to it and stood just inside the range of it’s vines. Immediately it responded by sending one to attack, much like a whip crack. The bladesmage flipped his sword off his shoulder and slashed, severing the tip of the vine and letting the rest of the attack pass harmlessly in front of him.

”Look, I really don’t want to HAVE to kill you, you know. You’re not worth that much exp to me, and all I need is one of those apples you have there.” With a whistle of displaced air, a second vine’s tip joined the first already withering on the ground.

”Oh fine, I guess I’ll play it your way. But don’t say I didn’t try.”

Casually walking forward, Nighthand was perfectly calm as more and more vines joined the assault upon him. His blade was, however, quite large and very sharp. He needed little more effort than holding it to one side or the other to let the vines sever themselves on it. The few that did strike him cause so little damage he didn’t even notice.

Now at the trunk of the tree, he reached up and snatched an apple from the low-hanging branches. The plant shook in anger at him. All along the swirling vines and quivering branches, flowers erupted. In an instant, like watching a time-lapse video, they budded, bloomed, and matured. Pollen flew from their open petals, swirled by the thrashing vines. The air grew clouded with the toxic stuff.

Even though the tree was a low level compared to him, the poison was still toxic. Each breath he took burned his lungs, as if he were trying to breathe water. His eyes watered, blurring his vision. Coughing, he dashed in as straight a course as he could from the trunk. He barely noticed when a thrashing vine stung his wrist, the apple falling from his hand. All that mattered was clear air.

Moments later he was once more in the center of all the trees nearby. Agitated by their fellow’s plight, the others had begun to thrash their vines around at him. Luckily enough he was out of their range, and also out of range of the poison.

The tree he had assaulted began to settle, the poison drifting away on the breeze. It soon had dissipated, but it had already done it’s damage. Nighthand stood, propped on his blade, panting and coughing. His HP had dropped significantly; it seemed the poison in this tree worked on a percentage rather than a fixed number. He was down to half health.

Luckily, he was always prepared for being hurt. Jabbing his Corona Blade into the ground, he used the spells in his helmet to cast Ol Repth on himself. The spell relieved most of the ache from his lungs, but it still lingered.

”Alright, Treeface. I tried to be nice, but this means war.”

Treeface?

Shut up. I just want to kill it. Lucky for me, trees are flammable.

Nighthand yanked his blade from the ground and grinned. It was time to do some damage. Dashing forward, not even using his hacks, he dodged all of the vines sent his way. The tree began it’s ominous shaking once more, the poison pollen spewing from it’s flowers. This time, however, Nighthand was prepared. Just as he neared the trunk, he slammed his blade into the ground and flipped up over it. It was the trademark Death Bringer move the heavyblades loved so much, with an added twist.

The blade began to glow, from red to white in an instant. It didn’t coat itself with flames like the lower skills did; the Corona Blade lit the very air around it on fire.

”Vak DIVIDER!”

The powerful skill coupled with the powerful attack of the high-leveled heavyblade was more than sufficient to cleave through any vines between him and his target. In fact, it was quite sufficient to cleave through the tree itself, setting what little remained of it on fire. It writhed and withered, the vines falling silent and the pollen dissipated before it had permeated the air.

Nighthand straightened, and turned his back on the burning tree, searching for the apple he had already stolen. He spotted it halfway between the clearing and the trunk, and scooped it up.

”See? You should have just given it to me to start….” he said over his shoulder, sticking the apple in his pack.

*DING*

You have done well, and obtained an apple. Now head to Theta, Blessed Cow Train, to gather the following items from the shops there.
Ball Jar-x12
Pots-x2
Jar Grabber-x1
Lid Lifter-x1
Large Spoon-x1
Jar Funnel-x1
Cinnamon-x1 chest’s worth

”Yay, item hunting. Ah well. To Mac Anu!”

The rings descended.

* * *

”How do they come up with these keywords… So insane…”

You’re one to talk…

Hey, I’m perfectly normal!

You said to the voice in your head.

Shut up.

The field was barren, broken, and riddled with deep crevices. Fortunately he arrive near the doorway to the factory. He didn’t want to have to climb that valley.

The great doors opened as he approached, revealing an interior a lot more like a mall than a factory. The interior was milling with people, some npc and admin workers moving from station to station, others players like himself preparing to gather the rest of their supplies.

Nighthand moved to the first station on floor, the Riddle Shop.

”Welcome to the Riddle Shop! We’re having a special today. Ask us a riddle, and if we cannot answer it, we’ll give you a dozen Ball Jars for a mere ONE GP! Care to try your mind?”

”Sure, I might as well. Let’s see, a riddle, eh? Hmm…

You write on me secrets I can keep;
In places never seen, I spin like a top;
Though stiff as a board, I’m described as a mop;
What am I?”

”Oh, that’s simple, you’ll have to do better than a Floppy Diskette. Try again!”

”Drat… Fine then, how about this one.

If frogs were like pancakes, what would I be?”

”Uh… What? I don’t get it, that’s not even a riddle!”

”It’s a riddle where I come from. You didn’t say anything about not using riddles only a certain group of people would get. So do I get my jars now?”

Nighthand grinned and flipped a single GP over to the NPC, taking the box of jars from the scowling figure. He turned to walk out of the store, when the voice spoke up once more.

”Uh… Before you go… What was the answer?

”A Millionaire.”

”A millionaire…. That… still doesn’t make sense…

Nighthand left him still muttering to himself, heading for the next station. This was beginning to get fun! Next on the line was the Pot Shop. This one was pretty boring, a simple exchange of GP for items. He certainly wasn’t about to mess up one of his helmets for it. He bought his pair for the asked-for 200 and quickly moved on to the next station; the Sword Shop.

”Welcome to the Sword Shop! Because of today’s special event, We’re having out own special! You need a Jar Grabber, and we can give you one for TWO GP only if you can show us a heavy blade or blademaster sword higher than level two!”

Nighthand grinned. This one would be a piece of cake. ”Alright, I’ll take this challenge. Which one works best?” Nighthand pulled his arsenal out and laid it, piece by piece, on the table.

”Okay, that’s an Earth Sword, that works. Here-wait. Is that… Woah, a Magnifier, even better!. You’re certainly pretty accomplish-uh… Is that… A Life Sword? It is! My, you must be quite a… a… a.. Corona Blade! Here you go sir, take this Jar Grabber with our compliments, you’re certainly our most distinguished guest of the evening!”

Nighthand laid the forgotten two GP on the counter, gathered up his weapons, and added the grabber to his pack. On to the next station; Hojik Shop.

”Welcome to the Hojik Shop! Here you can find the Lid Lifter you so desperately need! Unfortunately you’re not a heavy axe, so you must perform a dance to be allowed to buy it for 30 GP! Good luck!”

A Dance?! What kind of event is THIS?

A fun one, supposedly. Here, let me take over, I know you have four or five left feet. You can even shut your eyes if you don’t want to know what I’m doing.

Fine… It’s the only way…

Nighthand receded into his mind, letting Silverblade take over control of his body. While the two were essentially the same, they did have a few differences. After a few moments, He felt himself thrust back into control; the dance was apparently over. In his hand was a Lid Lifter.

What did you do?

Just a little dance, nothing major.

Shuddering unconsciously, Nighthand walked off. Behind him, just out of hearing, the NPC commented.

”That was the best chicken dance I have ever seen.”

Thankfully for Silverblade, Nighthand was unable to catch the remark. Shrugging at the murmuring NPC, he moved on to the next station, the Funnel Cake Shop.

”Welcome to the Funnel Cake Shop! Because today is such a special event, we are adding out bit of flair to the proceeding by providing the Jar Funnels! However, in order to bake our cakes, we need our oven lit! Please, kind sir, if you can light out oven, we’ll give you the Jar Funnel free of charge!

”I think I can handle that, show me the way.”

The NPC led him to the back of the store, where a large stone oven rested in a niche in the wall. The coals were cold and everything else was prepared; the only thing missing was the fire.

Drawing a scroll from his pouch, Nighthand decided to show off a bit. He activated the scroll and took hold of the wavering energy immediately, using it to immolate the paper it had come from. He held the ball of fire in his hand for a moment, then rolled it around. It rested on the back of his hand as effortlessly as a glove. Tilting his hand down, he let the flames roll like liquid around his fingers, all the while condensing into a single drop.

With a flick of his finger, the droplet of liquid fire landed in the oven and erupted into a full-fledged Vak Rom. The spell was easily contained within the oven’s own prepared shields, and the fire was lit. Nighthand grinned and took the funnel. One piece left. For the Spoon, he departed for the magic shop.

”Welcome to the Magic Shop! We will give you the Large Spoon for a level one elemental scroll!

Nighthand grimaced. The scrolls were easy to come by, of course, and he had more than enough money to buy as many as he pleased. Unfortunately, they acted essentially as ammunition to fuel his hack, and as such they were quite a bit more valuable to him than other people.

”Ah, screw it. I’ve done enough of this already, I may as well hand over a Fire Tempest.”

He handed over the scroll and jammed the proffered spoon into his pack, hurrying out of the mall.

*DING*

Congratulations on making it this far in the event! However, your greatest challenge still lies ahead of you! You must go to the special field; Sigma, Baking Desperate Frying Pot. Therein lies every fire monster in the game! Kill one, and you will gain a chest of cinnamon! However! The more suicidal the battle, the better the quality of cinnamon you may receive! Good Luck, Warrior!

The rings, once more, came down.

* * *

”Alright, now to find some kind of awesome fire monster to fight.”

Nighthand closed his eyes, and cast out his hack to search for sources of fire around him. Most of what he found was small, likely nothing more than a sled dog or something. Here and there he came across something stronger, but still there was nothing powerful enough to rival him. Then, suddenly on the edge of his perception, he caught a glimpse of one more powerful than the rest. He ran off in it’s direction, keeping careful watch on it. It didn’t move away; in fact it actually seemed to be moving slightly towards him. Almost as if it too could sense him and was looking forward to the battle.

Reaching the area the powerful monster occupied, Nighthand shut off the perceptions form his hack and used his eyes to look around. The area was barren, flat, and scorched. There was only one thing standing besides himself; a wavemistress.

”There you are… Let’s see what kind of fight you can bring!”

The wavemistress-copy smiled and nodded. Though it wasn’t a player, it was high enough level to have a significant AI, and a serious grasp of tactics guiding it’s thoughts and spells.

Tactic which quickly came into play. The wavemaster immediately began circling him, casting a spell at the same time. Nighthand expected this, of course; it was a common opening move for the creatures. Allowing the monster to think him mostly defenseless, he let the GiVak Don form above him and crash down.

In the midst of the fire attack, Nighthand leapt into action with his hack. He reached up, grasping and taking hold of the first fireball and spun, sending it flying like a baseball for the mage. Continuing his spin, he caught the second fireball and leapt out of the way of the third, releasing the second to fly into the air.

Nighthand landed, watching the first fireball dissipate where the wavemistress had stood. Unfortunately for him, the wavemistress no longer stood there.

Nighthand felt his body begin to relax. Then abruptly, as the spell took effect, his entire body fell numb. He felt a pull on his consciousness, and everything was black.

For an instant Nighthand was lost. Then a light shone, and he recognized the place as his mindscape. There on the table in front of him rested a slip of paper, a hastily scrawled note. Silverblade’s elegantly flowing script was recognizable.

- I noticed that the wavemistress was casting the sleep spell before you did; so I took the place of the unconscious consciousness. You won’t be able to move, but you only need your mind for your hack anyways. By the time you’re done reading this, the Flame Maiden should be about ready to cast his next spell, so hurry!-

Nighthand knew what to do. He sat down and closed his eyes, extending his perceptions with his hack. Once more he could see, though his vision was different from any he’d known before. There he was, in the center of a black void. Small dots of color represented the various scrolls he had, charges he could activate. A bright figure of fire some distance away was the Flame Maiden. Thin tendrils of red coiled around the area, ley lines of Vak energy the wavemistress drew her power from. As he watched, the tendrils began to form above him, twisting into globes.

Nighthand grinned, even though it didn’t show.

Quickly reaching out before the lines severed, he took hold of the globes and squeezed. The fire energy pumping into them was stopped, and forced back the way it had come. All of the lines were suddenly filled with fire, and they all pumped back into the wavemistress.

Nighthand only wished he could have seen the look on her face when her spell suddenly erupted inside her.

The sleep status effect suddenly wore off, and Nighthand felt Silverblade recede back into his mind. With a passing feeling of thanks, Nighthand assumed control of his body once more, and looked at the monster.

While his backlash of fire had damaged it, it still wasn’t down for the count. It struggled to rise to it’s feet, losing it’s balance because a large hole was charred out of where it’s chest should have been. It’s eyes were wild, betraying a more feral animalistic look than the previous cold human glare. Nighthand strode over to it as it finally staggered and held upright. Pulling his sword from his inventory, he swung it hard horizontally, baseballing the monster a good ten yard. Jogging to it’s side, he swung down and slashed deep into its half-severed chest, cutting the monster the rest of the way in half.

Still not done yet, the creature braved the pain of burnt-out spell channels and cast another GiVak Don. Nighthand swung again, crushing the monster’s skull and ending it’s life. The first of the fireballs struck nearby, dealing some damage to his HP but registering only as a wave of heat. The following pair struck and dissipated without any force behind them.

Casting a quick Ol Repth on himself, Nighthand picked up the chest that had appeared. It was little more than an ornate jewelry box, containing a fine brown cinnamon. He couldn’t tell the quality of it just by looking, but it would do.

Nighthand gated out, returning to the root town, and quickly back to Mac Anu. The armory there was bustling with activity, people moving around, creating their own dishes.

Nighthand set to work, determined to make this applesauce at least edible. He split the apple, sticking half in each pot. He used the spoon, and some force, to mash up the apples inside, adding the cinnamon until it was a rich golden color. One jar he stuck into the oven on a slow heat, the other he left on top. After the one inside was well heated, he pulled it out with the Jar Grabber. He used the lid lifter to open all the ball jars, and used the funnel to pour in the heated mixture to half. After which he poured the other pot into the other half of the sauce into the remaining jars. Then, for a final touch, Nighthand topped off each jar with a few drops each of a Health Drink, Mages Soul, Antidote, and Restorative.

Loading his jars back into the oven, he let them all stew a while longer to gain a nice flavor. Pulling them out, he quickly mixed it all into a nice dish and headed off. Soon he arrived at the Pawn Shop with his still-warm mixture, placing it on the counter and filling out the label.

Player: Nighthand
Creation: Curative Applesauce

Shrugging at the lackluster name, he propped the tag on the dish and sat down to the side to wait.

You know… It’s painfully obvious you can’t cook.

I know… but that doesn’t mean I can’t try.

After returning to town, Viscera was on the move for the next location. Blessed Cow Train. Never heard of those keywords before. Must be a one time only kind of thing. He stepped up to the Chaos Gate, with intent on leaving. "Blessed Cow T--" Before he could finish, he was shoved out of the way by an arrogant Twin Blade. "Outta the way fatty." Fatty! The Twin Blade made the worst mistake ever. Who insults someone nearly twice their size? As the Twin Blade was gating out, Viscera grabbed him by the collar of his neck. Viscera dragged the Twin Blade over to the bridge. "You think you’re funny? Guess what 'fatty' has in store for you." He held the little jerk out over the water, and the player began to plea. "Come on man, you know I was just kidding, right? It was all a joke. Please, I can't swim!" Viscera stared at him for a few moments, and tossed him in the drink anyway. "It is not a concern of mine." Viscera returned to the Chaos Gate, and gated out uninterrupted this time. "Blessed Cow Train."

Upon arriving in the field, Viscera immediately searched for any nearby enemies. Are there none in this event? Seeing none, Viscera made his way to the factory in the distance. It was quite simple to notice, due to the lack of vegetation and life in the desolate wasteland. Where will I go first? Well, I already have the necessary items for many of the places. I will just have to see which is closest. It took some time for him to arrive, but he wasn't in too much of a hurry to get finished. I have a couple days. Why not just sit back and enjoy myself. He strolled over to the ravine next to the factory, and peered inside. It was easily as deep as The Grand Canyon, if not deeper. I wonder what would happen if lost my footing. As he said it, some rock under foot gave way and tumbled to the bottom of the gorge. Why would they build a factory on something so unstable? I just hope it doesn't crumble while I am in there. With nothing further to examine, Viscera made his way into the building.

Inside was much cooler than the blistering heat outside. At first glance, Viscera could not see the shops. What? Am I in the wrong place? He took off his helmet for the first time, and suddenly everything light up in a blast of color and festivity. Looking back to his helmet, Viscera noticed that his visor was covered in sand. Damn sand storms. Wiping it off, Viscera returned the armor to its proper place on his cranium and started looking around. Okay, the closest place I can see is the Pot Shop. Heh, pot shop. That's funny. Wait, the Riddle Shop is right there too. Might as well kill two birds with one stone. The first objective for Viscera was to come up with a riddle. Something not too easy, but not too stupid either. Aha, I got one! Walking up to the Riddle Shop, the NPC owner greeted him. "Welcome to the Riddle Shop. You are here for the Ball Jars, correct?" Not even waiting for an answer, the portly man continued. "Stump me, and they are all yours. If you can't, you will have to wait until later."

Viscera couldn't help but grin at the clever question he had lying in wait. "Okay riddle man, I got one. A sheik announced that a race would decide which of his two sons would inherit all his wealth. The sons were to ride their camels to a certain distant city. The son whose camel reached the city last would be given all the sheik's wealth. The two sons set out on the journey. After several days of aimless wandering, they met and agreed to seek the advice of a wiseman. After listening to the wiseman's advice, the two sons rode the camels as quickly as possible to the designated city. What was it that the wiseman told the two sons? They did not agree to split the wealth, and their father's decree would be followed." The merchant went into a deep trance, evidently meaning that the computer was trying to answer with the most logical answer it could. "The wiseman told them to never finish the race," answered the man. Viscera smiled and held out his sack. "Put the jars in here please, because that was wrong. The wiseman actually told them to switch camels, so if they beat their brother their camel would come in last."

The next destination for Viscera was the Pot Shop. I will never get over that name. Upon entering, Viscera saw row upon row and column upon column of pots. A slender NPC woman popped up from behind the counter. "Welcome to the Pot Shop. You can buy any and all jars you may need here for just 100GP per pot." Viscera tried to bargain with the lady, asking if there were any feats he could perform for a discount. She just kept repeating the same thing over and over. Frustrated, Viscera gave up. He laid 200GP on the counter and snatched two pots, tossing them in his sack. "Thank you for your purchase, and enjoy 'The World'." Viscera just leered at her and stalked out. 100GP for a pot. That is highway robbery. The next store that he visited was the Sword Shop. Since I don't have any spears, looks like I will have to buy a jar grabber. Good thing I got the Earth Sword from Darkside. Entering the store, the NPC asked to show him a level two sword for a dicount. Way ahead of ya buddy. Presenting the weapon, Viscera watched as the cost of the jar grabber plummeted downwards until it reached 2GP. Wow, what a discount! Smacking 2GP onto the countertop, Viscera took the jar grabber and continued on his quest for the best applesauce.

The sounds changed and then an eerie wind that smelled like blood passed by Hacorie’s face. Around him, helpless players were getting massacred by trees, but others were also having fun and killing the monsters easily. Laughing at the site, the Heavy Blade turned around to a valiant field of trees moving around with the fruit that he needed in hanging form their branches. Spotting the nearest one, the Heavy Blade started walking to it while drawing the Steeler from the sheath on his back. Gently laying the blade on his shoulder, Hacorie smirked a bit more. He was already nearing the monster. Its glorious leaves were shining about giving off a florescent glow to the tree. Almost at its trunk, Hacorie looked up the gigantic plant and tried speaking to it.

“Oh good, this field lets me speak. Well, hello Mr. Tree. My name is Hacorie and I would really hate to kill you right here and now. So if you just give me a piece of your fruit I will be on my way. Now, if you do not comply me, I will be forced to cut you down and make fire wood out of you.” Speaking rather mercilessly to the tree, Hac got the answer he deserved. Two thick vines shot from the trees bark and wrapped themselves around his weapon almost completely covering it. “You think you can take this weapon from me? Good luck trying...” Hac spoke again as he jerked the blade toward himself, cutting the vines in the process and releasing his vines from their entanglement. You picked the hard way... Not giving the tree another time to respond, the Heavy Blade rushed at it with blade ready to strike.

“Gan Smash!”

Hacorie slashed downward and shallowly planted his blade into the ground where it would be easy to pull back out. Using a more Olympic style move, the Heavy Blade kicked his back feet of the ground and into the air. Pressing the top of the blade a little more into the ground, Hacorie was able to balance himself on top of the blade. Outstretching their arms until they were locked, Hacorie planned the last part of his attack. Slowly, he started to fall forward. In this time, the Heavy Blade corkscrewed his body and lifted the blade out of the ground while bending his body. His feet soon touched the ground. Right after, the force behind him, pushed his blade vertically down on the Apple Treeclaw. To Hac’s surprise though, the monster was not there anymore. Looking to each side, he wondered where the tree went. A sharp pain soon struck the heavy blade in his side. Looking down at the pulsating spot, Hacorie saw a sharp vine outstretched through the wound. The large tree had somehow got behind Hac in his theatrical performance.

Whining a bit internally, Hacorie took his front foot and slid it back while shifting his body weight to turn toward the Apple Treeclaw and also avoid any oncoming vines. This dance like move worked for a second, but before Hac’s eyes were readjusted another fine struck him through the shoulder. Hacorie quickly dropped the Steeler and grabbed his shoulder wound to try and suppress the blood that was now almost flowing out. “AHHHHH!” He yelled aloud as the pain was extensive. Before Hac could grip his sword again, a few more vines shot toward him from the tree. “Fool me once, SHAME ON ME!” Hacorie yelled aloud to the tree as he took his bloody palm away from his wound and outstretched it toward the vines. “GAN ROM!” He exploded in a screaming voice. A swirling tornado quickly encompassed the area of the tree and where the vines were so far. As swirling rocks appeared, the vines were either stoned to death or they hit a rock while trying to escape the tornado. Hacorie quickly touched his wound again. “Repth.” This time instead of yelling, he whispered the spell. His wounds were quickly closed as Hac’s body was engulfed in a brilliant white aura. As the glow subsided, the Heavy Blade picked up his Steeler and looked on at what he had to face.

“Full me twice, shame on you....” He said under his breath finishing his statement from earlier. The Gan Rom had not only damaged the tree a bit, but it had also dropped a variety of apples on the ground. Smiling gleefully, the Heavy Blade quickly started running toward the monster again. Sidestepping every other move, Hacorie was able to avoid most the vines that were trying to penetrate his skin. The others, he just deflected with his giant sword. As he was almost at the trunk of the tree, Hacorie’s sword disappeared as he unequipped it. The Heavy Blade then dove toward the bushel of apples that had fallen. Not looking at what was there, he just felt for something hard and grasped it in his hand. The Heavy Blade then clutched the apple against his body as he finished the dive with a rolling finish.

Standing back to his feet, Hacorie made the apple disappear into his inventory. The tree was not done with the Heavy Blade though. A high pitched whistling sound quickly came from the tree. An earthquake sound came from all around as six Apple Treeclaws appeared, surrounding the Heavy Blade entirely. He had only one escape, to gate out, the only other choice was to fight. “I am going to choose to fight.” Hacorie said to them and himself as he smiled a bit. His evil smirk knew no bounds to the death that he was about to inflict. Getting ready to bolt, Hacorie turned to one of the trees. In almost the time of a two-command start, the Heavy Blade was off, sprinting toward the tree. “I shall take no prisoners.”

Saying the cliche phrase under his breath, Hacorie stopped his front foot and fell forward, straight on his face. The trees had already sent out vines to attack him, so since the Heavy Blade was on the ground, he did not have to worry about the first wave. Not taking any time, Hacorie started rolling to the side. As he rolled, he outstretched one of his hands quickly and clutched a clump of grass. This, luckily, a strong clump of grass stopped him from rolling on any further. Now taking advantage of his situation, Hacore stood up. Looking around, her saw five out of seven trees. Oh no, I forgot I was surrounded. Right after noticing this, six piercing blows quickly struck the Heavy Blade’s back simultaneously. One thing was good about the attack though, Hacorie was too close to the trees, so the vines could not get enough velocity to pierce his body completely. As the pain heightened, Hacorie’s Steeler appeared in his hands again.

“Ap Ganz......”

A bright brown aura engulfed the Heavy Blade as he felt his blood seem to harden. The essence of rock was now flowing through Hac’s body to help increase his earth element. Still facing the five trees he saw earlier, Hacorie outstretched his hand in the middle of the roll and cast the same spell as earlier. “Gan Rom!” The violent tornado quickly appeared out of no where and engulfed the three middle trees and half the other two. Leaving no time fro mistake, Hacorie turned and ducked. He was just in time since vines passed by his ears. Now gripping the weapon tight, Hacorie shouted his only earth skill aloud once again, hoping this time it connected.

“Gan Smash!”

The silver blade quickly changed colors to a bright, earth looking brown. The blade also gained a lighter brown aura. Preforming the same thing as last time, Hacorie was fueled with triumph when he slashed down this time. This was only because that he felt a since of relief that this tree did not move like the other. Instead it took the blow like the tree it is and didn’t leaf. Laughing at his joke, Hacorie watched as the monster split in half and large blue letters formed above its head. “ELEMENTAL CRITICAL!”. Feeling victory run through his veins once again, Hacorie turned to the other tree, forgetting about the other five entirely.

Viscera had already collected half of the objects he needed for the applesauce. He withdrew his checklist and began reading down the list. One apple? Check. Twelve ball jars? Check. Two pots? Got 'em. Lastly, a jar grabber. I got that. So next I need a lid lifter. The Hojik Shop was the provider of the next item, so he wandered over to the counter. A strangly man stood behind the counter. He began to speak in an eerie tone, sending chills down Viscera's spine. "You are here for the special item, no? I have a chance for a discount if you can provide me with entertainment. I have always wanted to be buff. Surprise me, and the item is yours free." Viscera knew he could easily get this item for free, seeing as he was the strongetst class in the game. What could I use to impress him....I got it! "Gan Zot!" Boulders easily weighing two tons each sprouted from the ground. Getting a grip on one of the rocks, Viscera began to heave the rocvk upward. First it rested near his knees, then on his stomach, finally arriving on his shoulders. He lost his balance, and fell to one knee. This seems familiar. The shopkeep's face light up as he applauded the feat of strength, his face beaming with a smile. "Excellent! Here, you have earned this." Viscera dropped the weight, creating a tiny crater. He graciously took the lid lifter, set it in his sack, and lumbered off holding his back.

His back still aching, Viscera made his way to the Magic Shop. Upon arrival, he noticed that the owner was away at the time. Be back in 5 minutes. Aw, man! What am I to do now? After waiting for what seemed forever, he began to grow impatient. Alright, I am going to do this myself. Stepping around the counter, Viscera noticed a smalll machine, with two slots. One was labeled scroll, and the other was labeled Spoon. I guess I just slip it in here... The mechanism greedily pulled in the scroll, and spat out a spoon. "Hey! I need that!" Viscera tried to tug back, but the parchment was too far in to get it away. I hope Darkside didn't need that. Viscera snatched up the spoon, stuck his tongue out at the machine, and stormed off.

The final destination in the factory was the Funnel Cake shop. Alright. I am almost finished. Viscera approached the store, and dinged the bell on the counter. Two grimy women showed up behind the counter, smiling and speaking in unison. "Welcome sir. We sell the best funnel cake around. Unfortunatley, our oven has gone out. If you want a fresh cake, please help us to light it again." The ladies led Viscera back the the furnace, and opened the grate on it. This is their oven?! It is huge! The cooks waited patiently as Viscera snooped around. There has to be something to light it with. There is already wood in there, so i don't need that. He tripped on something sticking out of the ground, and peered down to see what had caused him the trouble. Pulling out the objects, Viscera realized what they were. Flint and granite. I can use these. Heading back to the oven, Viscera began furiously striking the stones against each other. Sparks flew from the objects, but none of them light. Come on... After a few minutes of trying, the stones crumbled, leaving Viscera's hands empty. With no other options left, Viscera had to buy a cold cake. Man, these are expensive. Leaving the saddened women with 500GP, Viscera gated back to town.

Arriving in town, Viscera found Darkside waiting for him. After giving back the sword, and explaining what happened to the scroll, Viscera finally got a chance to head for the next location. He stepped up toi the gate, and yelled the next location. "Baking Desperate Frying Pot!" When the golden rings finally settled, Viscera was amazed with the new scenery. The field was aflame, but the fire didn't burn. Nice special effects. Looking around, he was glad to notice the portals were not close together. I don't know what to expect. Inching close to the first portal, Viscera awaited with dread wondering what type of undefeatable beast would come. The golden spiral settled, and he was staring down the nose of a Hell Doberman.

(OOC: Really wanted this to fit into one post, but yeah; not happening. It’s some 90,000 characters long, and the maximum is 60,000. Here it is:)

Applesauce Day, what the hell?! He’d never even heard of the “holiday” before this, but he’d made it a habit to get involved with every sort of special event the Corporation had to offer; no matter how zany it was. I guess I’ll just have to grin and bear it. His mind was set on something, which was a rare event in and of itself. He had to get the ingredients, and make applesauce. Why me?

The first task was getting apples; he had no clue where to start. I’ll just ask around to see if I can’t get some help. Flashmails were sent to all of the people he’d come to know in the game, and even some he didn’t know from a hole in the wall. All he could do now was wait…and wait…and wait…and wait…

}-3 hours later-{

…and wait…and wait…and wait…and wait…

}-7 hours later-{

…and wait…and wait…and wait…and wait. By this time it was clear that either no one had gotten his flashmail, that they’d all ignored it, or that they knew and weren’t telling him. With a sigh he plopped down in the shade beside one of the buildings in Mac Anu, letting the relatively thin crowd pass him by. I guess more people celebrate Applesauce Day than I thought…

“So the field is Delta, Eventually Crazy Overlord Snap?” he heard from a younger player who had happened to stop with her friend right in front of him.
“That’s what it said,” her friend replied, “what weird keywords.” With that the disheveled blademaster stood, startling the newer players and almost losing balance himself.
“I beg your pardon,” he said, “but where did you get that information?” The two girls only looked at him awkwardly, apparently still getting over the fact that he had just popped in out of seemingly nowhere.
“It was on the bottom of the poster,” said one of the girls finally, “right over there.”
“Yeah,” the other replied, “it’s about the Applesauce Day event.” It then hit Dien pretty hard that he had neglected to read the fine print. His face elongated in disbelief, and the two girls before him laughed a little bit on seeing it (it was rather amusing to look at, seeing the calm, cool blademaster shrunken to nothing but a blabbering idiot).
“Uh, thanks ladies,” he said finally composing himself before them, “I’m Dien by the way.”
“Well, ‘Dien by the way,’ I’m Teya and she’s Shell,” one of the girls said, “and you’re welcome.”
“We’ll be seeing you on the field,” Shell followed up, waving to him as her friend pulled her away.
“That you will,” he replied quietly to himself after they were gone. They had been good to look at, but for now he had other things to worry about. The crowd had already grown quite dense around the poster, and he just had to read the bottom of it.

“Excuse me,” he said, “pardon me. Coming through!” His journey to the poster was hastened by his volume and the occasional falsified GP bill handed to people (worthless pieces of paper they were, but no one knew that). Finally, he reached the front of the pack, standing a good foot away from the poster. Sure enough, there in fine print, was the information he’d needed:

Well then, he thought, I guess it’s time to do some apple-picking. He closed his eyes, mustering the necessary energy before doing a backflip over the entire crowd gathered at the poster (granted, he did hit a couple people in the process, but all’s well that ends well). His first task would be to pick an apple.

It was something he’d done a lot as a child. Some of the orchards planted by Johnny Appleseed himself were within a mile of his suburban home. Apples tasted so good when they were hand-picked and eaten on the spot; he couldn’t wait to see how well the World interpreted it. Really, he would just have to wait and see.

His stride left him standing before the gold and blue Chaos Gate of Mac Anu. The child-like eagerness he had to get going caused him to shout the first keywords. Normally, he would have just mentioned them as he approached, but his excitement had drawn the n00bish shout from him. A triplet of three golden rings traveled up about his body, dissolving it and sending him in bits and bytes to the field where the event started; Delta, Eventually Crazy Overlord Snap.

What his eyes bestowed upon him when he first arrived was a thing of beauty. He stood atop a hill, and around him were four trees. However, these trees were only part of the organization of the place, and his mind soon interpreted it to be a massive orchard with groves upon groves of trees. They were unusually tall for fruit-bearing trees, but he shrugged. All he needed here was a single apple.

His gaze looked up to the canopy above him. Not a single fruit could be seen. Maybe they’re inside… He forsook Gakaku to the soft grassy earth below, and began to climb to get into the tree. It took him quite a while to get into the actual canopy, seeing as how the branches were sparse up until that point. He’d never been particularly good at climbing trees; in the real world, he could never get a good enough grip to pull himself up without fear of falling and breaking a limb. While all his friends had done just that, Dien remained with all his bones intact, and now gripped the lower-most leaf-bearing tree. He was some 15 feet off the ground, and it became clear to him that the lack of proportion had been done on purpose. It wasn’t supposed to be easy to get an apple, and putting one in jumping distance from the ground would have made it rather simple to simply jump, grab, and pick.

His head finally poked into the layer of leaves, and sadly enough, there were no apples on this tree. Heck, there was no fruit of any kind; let alone apples. Saddened, he slowly began to make his way out of the myriad of branches and leaves in this canopy so jumping wouldn’t injure him.

“Did you find anything?” he heard a familiar voice asked from below. Who the…? Progress was hastened on freeing himself of the limbs of the tree, and he jumped down, bending to a crouch as his feet hit the ground to spare any injury. Indeed, his suspicions had been correct. Before him stood Teya and Shell, neither one holding any apples.
“Not a thing,” he replied. He was about to turn away, when Teya opened her mouth.
“I don’t suppose you could help us,” she said, beginning to walk toward him. Her hands were held together behind her back in a way that made her look bigger from the front, and it was obvious she was trying to seduce Dien.
“What’s in it for me?” he asked, keeping his cool expression on. As much as he would have loved to see the girl without those clothes on, he knew Auren would find out, and that would not be good for him…at all.
“We’d be very, very grateful if you helped us,” Shell said, clinging to his arm and rubbing his chest through the white shirt that was under his jacket.
“I see,” Dien said, beginning to lose his cool. Thoughts of Auren flashed through his mind, but for some reason he couldn’t stop himself.
“So,” Teya replied, stepping closer, and bending over to reveal more of her cleavage than would be allowed on a television, “what will it be?”
“I guess I have no choice,” Dien said weakly and with a smile. His right arm had practically been consumed in the cleavage of Shell as she continued stroking his chest.
“Well then,” Teya replied with a very perky tone, “let’s get to work!” Shell remained in place on Dien’s arm, rubbing his chest with her eyes closed.
“Ahem!” Teya said in a loud noise. Shell only continued, seemingly enticed by Dien instead of the other way around, “Shell!” The girl’s eyes suddenly opened wide in shock as her hand stopped rubbing, “That’s enough!”
“Oh, right!” she said, removing herself from about the arm of Dien, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Dien muttered, eliciting a blush and a smile from the young player. Dien took the opportunity to take a closer look at the two characters before him.

Teya, the more commanding and better spoken of the two, was a level two twinblade. On top, she wore a very tight fishnet bikini top, while a spaghetti-strap bottom that showed as much skin as possible covered in between the legs. From a belt that sat crooked across her hips sank a fishnet skirt with a tattered bottom to it. For shoes, the player wore no more than a pair of sandals. The whole look practically screamed sex, but then that’s how she had won his help.

Shell, the more reserved of the two, wore attire of a more modest sort. On top, a loose, white, spaghetti-strap tank top sat over what appeared to be the straps to a bathing suit underneath. The bottom of her shirt flirted with the top of her pants, which were no more than a pair of simple jean shorts that came to her mid-thigh. The profile said she was a level 3 wavemistress, but Dien could see no wand or staff of any sort in her possession. In his opinion, she was the prettier of the two ladies, but he would keep his mouth shut. He was already in danger of Auren searching his logs to find these two girls seducing him. The thought of her anger at him set his heart beating faster, and he was brought back to the moment.

“Dien!” called Shell, “what are you waiting for?” The two had already managed to move down the hill, and he could see them at its bottom waiting for him. He could also see something moving in the shadows of the trees toward them. Brief spits of sunlight hit his face as he ran through the trees, knowing that he was stronger than both of them and thus obligated to help. His breathing was heavy when he arrived, but nonetheless, he stood.

“Geez, man,” said Teya, “you didn’t have to run. We would’ve waited for you…”
”No,” he said, panting, “There’s…a monster…”
“What?” Teya responded. Shell only looked about, trying to spot what he had been talking about.
“I don’t see anything,” Shell retorted, “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” he said, “I saw it. It was moving toward you in the shadows…”
“Probably just a stalker,” Teya figured, “and what do we usually do with stalkers, Shell?”
“Not again,” Shell said, her shoulders and expression falling as though she were suddenly depressed.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as she walked closer to Teya.
“N-nothing,” she said, “don’t worry about it.” Her focus changed toward Teya, and the two began to commit to a most unholy action. The whole thing seemed very erotic, especially when clothing began to be removed, but Dien couldn’t help but notice that there was something else. From behind them, the movement began again, and his focus shifted from them to whatever it was that was approaching.

“Excuse me, ladies,” he said to them, keeping his gaze fixed on whatever it was that was moving, “get off of each other and put your clothes back on, we’ve got a situation on our hands.”

What orgasmic actions had been occurring between the two hastily came to an end, and as articles of clothing were replaced on their proper bodies, a smell like that of rotten eggs began to permeate the air.

“Sulfur!” the blademaster called out, digging a handkerchief out of his pocket as the air began to grow thick. He placed the cloth over his own mouth, and saw Shell and Teya begin to collapse to the ground with the poison. The twinblade’s body began to throb red, indicating her hit points had been reduced to a critical level.

“Repth!” Shell called, wrapping her friend in a bubbly field of water. The player was back in consciousness, but not in very good shape.

“What’s doing this?” Teya asked through violent coughing bouts.
”A monster obviously,” Dien replied, having tied the handkerchief about his mouth and nose to act as a gas-mask of sorts, “here,” he took out his sword and cut pieces of fabric out of his shirt, “use these.”
“Thanks,” Shell replied, taking one for herself and giving the other to Teya.
“I don’t see any monsters,” the twinblade replied, “are you sure?”

“Yes,” Dien said, looking about. She was right; there were no monsters; just a bunch of really tall trees and one normal orchard-sized- wait a minute. That’s it! With sword in hand, he charged at the tree, making a strong cut into its limbs while Shell and Teya just watched. The stench intensified, but then so did Dien’s assault. Another cut, and the tree gave off an angry groan like it had been blown too hard by the wind.

“And that,” he said, bringing his blade into the tree’s trunk a third and final time, “is that.” The thing dissolved, leaving only a Granny Smith Apple in its place. He bent over, reaching his hand out to take the rarity of the nature in this World, only to have it snatched out from under him.
“Thanks, Dien!” Teya said enthusiastically. He’d been had, “now, we getting more?”
“I suppose,” followed Dien’s lips after a sigh.
“Aw, what’s wrong?” asked Shell, coming up and clinging to his arm. Her gaze directed itself towards his face questioningly.
“You two have me right where you want me,” he said, “and I am all but powerless to go against it.”
“Yep!” the twinblade replied, “isn’t it great?” Another sigh escaped his lips. He was about to comment on how they were acting like leeches, but decided against it. They were good to look at, but generally looks only got a person so far. Opening his mouth to speak, he heard words that were not his own.
“What the hell are you doing to my trees?!” Leaves, branches, and other residual bits of tree lay scattered about on the forest floor, and the threesome turned to see a new player entering their area. From the pot on his head to the worn down overalls and bare feet, this character was the spitting image of none other than Johnny Appleseed. Dien stood, unsure how to respond.
“You heard me!” he said in a louder voice.
“We just needed an apple,” Shell responded, “the tree wouldn’t give it, so we had to take it by force.” The man was a sorry image to be sure. He bent over, picking up one of the severed limbs and holding it in his hands. He muttered a name that none would later recall, and looked up to Dien with tears in his eyes.
”HOW COULD YOU?!” he asked, standing up and taking off his pot. Ironically enough it reshaped itself into an axe in his hands. The sap still dripped from Dien’s Gakaku, and he began to panic.
“Relax,” Teya said, walking up behind the man and rubbing about his lower back as she stood at his side. He tried to shy away from her, but found himself captivated on the other side by Shell.
“All we needed was the apple,” Dien said, stabbing his sword into the soft earth to clean it, “like she said.” By now, though, Mr. Appleseed was near the point of swooning with the two women at his sides. The blademaster chuckled lightly and approached the man in the middle. “Now I need to get two more for these ladies,” he said, pointing to both of them, “would you like to help me out?” The man hesitated, not saying anything for a while. “Well then,” Dien continued, “it looks as though I’ll have to do it myself.” A puzzled look came across the face of the caricature as Dien turned and began walking. It was not long before the fowl stench of sulfur found its way to his nostrils once more and, standing some 10 feet from both Johnny Appleseed and the next “apple tree,” he faced it and held his palm forward.

“Gan Zot!” he shouted, and the spires of rock instantly shot up from underneath the tree, rendering it in half, in fourths, in eights, until all that was left was a pile of sawdust; ample cushioning for the apple that then appeared. More tears welled up in the eyes of Johnny Appleseed, and he broke free from the grasp of the two temptresses.

“MURDERER!” he cried, running toward Dien with his axe raised. Taking the apple, Dien merely stepped aside at the last possible moment, causing the player to fall flat on his face. Sawdust flew up in a cloud around his impact, although he couldn’t say that it was the only thing there had been for him to land on. Branches, leaves, twigs, and other such pieces of wood had been there for the man to injure himself on, and now, as Dien watched, he could hear muffled sobs coming from the man. It’s a tree…

“What did you do, Dien?!” asked Teya running over and helping the man up. Shell was close in pursuit, but instead she stopped, standing next to the blademaster and watching as Teya helped the sorry fool to his feet.
“Don’t think you won’t pay for that!” the man bellowed at Dien.
“Can it.” Dien tactlessly commanded. Remarkably, it worked.
“So, Johnny,” Teya said, clinging to his arm as though for dear life, “would you like to help us get that last apple?”
“Sure,” he said, “if it means no more trees die. Also, my name’s not ‘Johnny Appleseed;’ it’s John Chapman.”

“Sure,” Dien remarked, “and I’m Paul Bunyan.” The comment had Shell laughing quietly to herself, but no one else thought it all that funny. In any case, the party moved on. Appleseed muttered on under his breath about the dying state of this world and how no one cares anymore, and all the while Teya just clung to him. Dien and Shell walked behind them, Shell holding on to Dien’s hand firmly. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he was attached, and so just let it slide.

Very soon the scent of rotten eggs made its way into their noses again, only this time Johnny was there to cast restoratives on everyone. After that, he merely walked up to the tree and picked the apple, simple as that. Everyone, Dien included, gawked at how simple it was, and how, after the apple was picked, the stench disappeared.

“So,” Dien said, taking the last apple, “that’s three apples.”
“Yep,” Shell nodded, looking at his red delicious apple, “now we go on to the Theta server.”
“Wait, wait,” Chapman said, “what’s all this about?”
“Haven’t you heard,” Teya said, turning him to face her, “it’s Applesauce Day, so the CC Corporation is having an Applesauce Contest!”
“Whowha?” he asked, as confused as ever.
“Just go to Mac Anu, find the sign poster, and meet us at the next field once you have your apple,” the wavemistress instructed. Appleseed was still clueless as to the nature of things, and Teya began to get frustrated.
“Alright, look,” she said, “I’ll stay behind with you to get you caught up with things. Dien, Shell, we’ll meet you at the Sigma field.”
“Right,” Shell replied, “bye Teya.” But the twinblade only waved, having started walking away with Johnny to explain the special event.

To Dien, the action had been downright rude, but apparently Shell didn’t see it as such. The two made their way back to Mac Anu, and then to the Theta Root town of Dun Loiraeg. The place had been utterly destroyed with the finale between Amethos and Nathan of ages past, but now appeared in its former beauty. Shell stood agape, marveling at the beauty she beheld.

“So this is Dun Loiraeg,” Dien said, having never actually seen the City in the Sky before this day. It was truly an impressive sight. Massive spires of rock shot into the air all around. The sun was setting lazily on the town, rebounding brilliantly through thin clouds that soared high above. Below the city was a layer of clouds that extended to the horizon, and just as the sun passed into its barrier, the whole city gained an under-glow, the mysterious red light bouncing skyward from the clouds below. Above, shades of pink and purple appeared in tandem with the darkening blue sky. Already the moon shone through what of the clouds it could (though its light dulled in comparison to the light of the sun beneath).The two characters stood in awe as the spectacle slowly faded into night. The girl of the pair had made several longing glances at Dien, but he’d not caught a single one, too taken in by the beauty of the World around him. If he’d thought apples would be good, this had been even better.

“Dien,” Shell said finally, after the light had faded and the stars had begun to twinkle above, “I’ve…”
“What is it Shell?” he asked quietly, turning to face her.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you…”
Dien remained quiet.
“…what do you think of me?” The question had been asked. At first, the blademaster faltered for words, not having any clue the way to tell her without sparking her interest toward him (and yet not hurting her feelings).
“Well,” he finally began, “I can say that you’re beautiful. From what I’ve seen you’re definitely smarter than Teya and easily the prettier. You have some quirks around you, but that’s not a bad thing, and overall you seem like a fun person to be around.” He smiled nervously.
“Funny,” was her response, “I’d always thought Teya to be prettier.”
To tell my opinion, Teya’s a filthy whore. He was very glad the last statement hadn’t come out of his mouth. Chances are that if he’d actually said that phrase, she wouldn’t be around for very much longer.
“Well just for the record, I disagree.” He replied.
“Come on,” she said, “you must think she’s a prettier girl than I am. I mean, look at her; she’s got a perfect figure, gorgeous hair, and one of the sexiest outfits you’ll ever see in the world.”
“Yeah, well,” Dien began his counter, “her face doesn’t hold a candle to yours, and there’s more to you than just being a sex goddess.” The statement drew a laugh from Shell, only a more natural one than before at the field.
“That is true,” she agreed, “Teya is pretty much the world’s biggest sex-a-holic out there.”
“By the way,” Dien said, cutting in, “what was that back on the field?”
“Oh you mean with me and Teya?” the wavemistress asked, “well Teya has this thing, see. She’s even more of a sex-a-holic in real life, and has the looks to get into the pants of pretty much anyone she wants. So naturally she has stalkers.”
“I get it,” Dien said, “she’s so terrified of them in the real world that she just indulges them here.”
“That’s not it at all. Teya is an exhibitionist, so when she feels like she’s being watched, she has this compulsion to play on the desires of those watching her; no matter who she’s with. Heaven only knows what she’s doing to Johnny Appleseed.”
“Yeah,” Dien replied, “I feel kinda sorry for the guy.”
“Mmm.” The conversation slacked off a bit, letting the two players stand side by side with one another for a bit. The occasional player passed through the gate, although none of them too enthusiastic about it.

“We should get going,” Dien finally said, “wouldn’t want them to run out of supplies before we got there.”
“Yeah,” Shell said with a laugh. They turned, facing the Chaos Gate as a pair. Just as Dien was opening his mouth to say the keywords, his name was mentioned again by the wavemaster at his side: “Dien?”
“Hmm?” he asked, turning to face her. Almost immediately he found his lips locked with hers in a kiss. His mind went racing, trying to find ways out of it until it just bowed in submission, returning the kiss to her.

I wish I could say it ended there, but I know that would be a silly thing. Dien is a player of sorts, and Auren held him on a very tight leash. So, as chance would have it, his Unity Dagger was activated and he was transported to that most beautiful field. The sun had set there, too, leaving the couple to run in the plains in the moonlight. He had never gone north from the hill toward where the mountains were, but indeed that way he went, and when all was said and done, he found himself lying on the ground next to the wavemistress (I’m sure you understand the gravity of what they did; to both be lying flat on their backs like that). Except then, the fantasy popped, and Dien found himself still with lips locked with those of Shell. She certainly doesn’t kiss like her namesake, he thought, suddenly realizing just how fortunate he was to have not been caught by anyone he knew.

Making the necessary actions, he broke off the kiss with a gentle smile, taking her head gently in his hand. “Let’s finish this event.” He said.
“Right!” she replied, “Theta, Blessed Cow Train!” Instantly the golden rings surrounded their bodies, transporting them to the pathetic excuse for a field. What it really was could be described as a barren wasteland. Jagged rocks stuck up from uneven ground that exuded a green, noxious gas in certain areas. The sky above was a sunless rust with the occasional black cloud to sop up what joy could be derived from it. In the distance, a spout of magma shot up from the earth, while much closer, a thick column of slate-grey smoke rose to the sky in billowing clouds, dissipating as they streamed higher and higher into the nearly toxic atmosphere. At its base, a vague grey shape bearing semblance to a factory sat, and it was quite a good distance away.
“Well come on,” Dien said, taking Shell by the hand and preparing to cross the rough terrain. There were no monsters on the field, but the threat of earthquake, rockslide, or being hit by a random vent of suddenly-shooting gas was ever present. Eventually, though, they made it, and hastily entered the factory.

The doors shut quickly behind them, with the slam echoing through the factory. Within a moment’s notice lights flickered on, revealing the inner workings of the…factory. It was more of a mall as Dien would later recall. The only factory-like thing was the broken down assembly-line-styled machinery that probably didn’t even run anymore. From the looks of things, the factory was designed to produce one thing and one thing only; applesauce. Now that’s interesting…

“Are you just gonna gawk at this place or are we actually going to get what we came here for?” Shell asked, having already started moving.
“Oh, right, sorry,” came his response, mimicking her own from the field. She smirked, knowing the origin of that line all too well. The first shop they entered was the Riddle Shop. Inside was an old man with a beard that wound in layered shades of white and grey down to the floor. The hair that grew off his head was equally long and disheveled as any either of the two had ever seen. His skin had taken on a shade of grey as well, along with his robe. His kind old eyes were a lightened form of blue (almost to the point of being, you guessed it, grey). Overall the man seemed like he would break into dust at any moment, so Dien got right to the point.
“So,” he said, walking up to and leaning on the counter (though he half expected it to fall apart), “what do we do here?”
“If you give me a riddle I can’t solve, I’ll sell you these twelve jars for a single GP.” He responded in an old, weathered voice (so tempted to say grey again…).
“Alright,” the blademaster said, taking out a piece of paper and scribbling on it a message, “interpret this message.” He slid the note over to the clerk, who picked it up. It read:

After a moment’s thought, the man opened his mouth, “’A.B., see the goldfish?’ ‘L., Them ain’t no goldfish.’ ‘Oh yes they are A.B.’” With perfect diction, the man had clearly interpreted the riddle Dien had presented regarding sounding it out.
“Ok, then,” the blademaster said, pulling out another piece of paper and scribbling a second riddle on it, “try that one.” Once again the clerk picked up in front of his eyes to read:

Almost instantly the man translated the numerical gibberish before him into: “One-One was a racehorse. Two-Two was one, too. One-One won one race; Two-Two won one too.” Dien swore, knowing that two of his infamous riddles had just been wasted on this character. He still had one more up his sleeve. Taking out yet one last piece of paper, he scribbled the note on it. For a third time the old skeleton of a man picked up the paper and held it in front of his face, seeing:

The man squinted a bit, and even from where he stood Dien could see the last riddle he knew of being picked apart piece by piece in the old man’s head. Before he could come up with the answer, though, his eyes closed, his jaw dropped, and the deep breathing he had previously maintained settled to the calming snore of an old man fast asleep.
“Um, sir?” Dien asked, leaning over the counter. He remained put.
“Sir!” Dien said again, slamming his fist on the counter. What remained of the man jumped, and he looked at Dien and Shell standing before the counter puzzledly.
“Can I help you kids?” he asked, completely oblivious to the note that was right in front of his face.
“Yes,” Shell replied, “we need Ball Jars.”
“Oh well then tell me a riddle I won’t be able to answer,” the man said, “if you can do it, I’ll give you 12 of ‘em for a single GP.”
“Look in your hand,” Dien retorted, referring to the note, “translate that mess into English.”
The wrinkled brow of the old man flattened considerably as his eyes peered at the paper he held in his hand. Once again, Dien could see his puzzle deliberately being torn to shreds in the mind of the man, but before he could open his mouth and give the response, his eyes closed once again and the snoring started again.

“He can’t get it,” Dien remarked to Shell, “he keeps falling asleep before answering the riddle, and then completely forgets it when he wakes up!” With that, the blademaster dug out a single 1 GP coin from his pocket and placed it on the counter. The man’s mouth had opened and the slimy salivations from within were beginning to fall down through his beard to the floor (which was, at any rate, disgusting). Dien pounded his fist on the counter again, causing the little old man to jump. He looked puzzled at the couple standing before him, and eventually his look shifted to a smile.
“May I help you?” he asked, seemingly glad to know he had customers.
“You fell asleep on us,” Dien remarked, “twice.”
“I did?” the man asked, unsure what to make of the blademaster’s potentially bogus tale.
“Yes,” Shell replied, “you fell asleep before you could solve the riddle you hold in your hand.” He looked down at the riddle, then back at the couple.
“Then let me fetch you your bell jars!” he said with a smile, taking a pack of them and placing them on the counter. His gnarled fingers then took the coin and deposited it in the register. “Have a nice day, now!” he said, resuming his former position.
“Wait,” Shell said, “don’t I get some jars too?”
“You need your own riddle,” the man replied.
“Well then just interpret the message in your hand.”
“That’s his riddle;” the man stated, “but if you can tell him the solution and you’re right, maybe I’ll let you use it on me.” She looked questioningly to Dien, and he shook his head in regret.
“I’m sorry, Shell,” he said, “I can’t tell you the answer.” The girl then turned and snatched the paper right from the man’s hand and stared at the puzzle it contained. Quick glances were made to Dien and the old man, but neither offered any help.

“I give up,” she finally said, letting the paper fall to the ground. A tear made its way down her cheek, and she stuck her hands in her pockets, sadly beginning to turn around and exit the shop. Then it hit her.
“What have I got in my pocket?” she said aloud, the thoughts making their way through her mouth. Whatever it was had a smooth, rounded edge and a hard, flat feeling to it.
“I daresay that’s a tough one,” the man replied, “but, Mr. Bilbo Baggins, I must say that I know for a fact that the answer to that one is a Ring.” The two looked wide-eyed at the man behind the counter, and Shell withdrew her hand from her pocket.
“Actually,” she said, “I wasn’t referring to The Hobbit, merely puzzling to myself over what was in my pocket. As it turns out, it was a one-GP coin.” The man’s smile faded to a look of disbelief.
“There must be some mistake,” he said, “surely you have a ring in your pocket.” Sighing, Shell placed the currency on the counter and pulled out both of her pockets, revealing that that single solitary GP was the only thing she had in them.
“See?” she said, “nothing in them.” Her hand moved up and down the pocket’s lining, demonstrating how clean and lint-free it indeed was.
“Well then,” the man said, “I guess you get the jars too.” He retrieved yet another twelve-pack of the jars. His hand snatched the riddle-winning token from her hands and deposited it in the register.
“Have a good day,” he said pleasantly to the two players as they turned about to leave.
“You too, sir,” the blademaster threw back over his shoulder.

“Well that was a trip,” Shell remarked as they stood in the remains of the factory once more. It was surprisingly devoid of people, but neither she nor Dien noticed that. Instead, they just proceeded to the next stop; the Pot Shop. Inside was a vast array of various pots and pans which were to be used in the cooking needs of various items. On the wall, amidst a showcase of some fine cutlery, a portrait was mounted. The framed image contained a shot of the owner of a renowned five-star restaurant shaking hands and smiling with none other than the clerk who stood behind the counter.

“Hello!” she said enthusiastically, “welcome to my Pot Shop! What can I get for you?”
“Just that,” replied Shell, “we need four large pots.” The merchandise was placed on the counter in the form of four 13-inch-wide pots that stood up to about 9 inches off the counter.
“That comes to 400 GP,” she said with a smile, “are you kids making applesauce?”
“That’s right,” Dien said, taking out two 100GP bills, “for the event.”
“Well since you’re my first customers (OOC: written 2:43 PM on July 17, 2005), I’ll give you a little hint. Add a Health Drink while you’re adding the other spices to the sauce to give it a little bit of a kick.”
“Is that legal?” Shell asked, also handing over some money and taking her pots.
“I don’t see why not,” the clerk replied, “it’s what they do in the restaurants.”
“Thanks for the tip,” Dien said, picking up his pots, “now have a good day.”
“You too, and good luck.”
“Thanks.” The last word came from Shell as they exited the shop. The two pots each of them held slid inside one another snugly, and within had enough room to carry the Bell Jars. After Dien made the discovery, the wavemistress soon mimicked his arrangement, putting the two pots inside one another and then placing the jars in the resulting container. The whole thing made for a convenient, albeit heavy method of transporting the items they would collect. Next stop was the Sword Shop.

Ironically named for its superior amount of cutlery, the sword shop was a place people could get all sorts of utensils (and since it was the only shop of its kind in the world, they could charge whatever they wanted). Walking through the door sent a chill down Dien’s spine. The inside of this shop was particularly massive, and from the ceiling hung the skeleton of a particularly massive beast; a wyrm. What color it was didn’t really matter much, because it was merely a way to display the various swords and other cutlery that the owner apparently treasured. Lining the walls were boxes of other fine cutlery and kitchen utensils on shelves that stretched up to the ceiling (some 30 feet up).In the middle of the otherwise open room was a counter. A man (obviously the owner) stood behind it, polishing a very fine sword (later, would Dien learn, that this sword was the Ends of the Earth, the most powerful blade with respect to level in the game).

“Show me a sword,” he said as the two approached. Shell hadn’t stopped clinging to Dien’s arm the whole time in the shop, signaling her nervousness with regard to the multitudes of sharp objects. “Show me a sword and I’ll give you a jar grabber.” The man had already begun staking his claim in this special event, and now offered a deal. Dien drew Gakaku and handed it to Shell.

“Here,” he said, giving her the hilt of the blade to hold, “you’ll need this if you want a spoon.” For himself, Dien drew Zenganshon. The weapon hadn’t yet been returned to Zhirin, and at this point, he found it to be a glad thing that he hadn’t.
“Sir,” he said, stepping up to the counter, “I present to you Zenganshon.” The blade was held out hilt-first to the man behind the counter. A hand wrapped about the sword, and the man examined it thoroughly.
“2GP,” he said, “and you can have the jar grabber.” Frustrated, Dien dug the petty change from his pocket and placed it on the counter. With two fingers, he slid the coins forward.
”You know,” he said, “I’d be willing to pay good money for this blade.”
“I’m sorry sir,” Dien replied, “it’s not mine to give away.”
“Very well,” the clerk replied, handing over the sword and turning around. His hands found the device that Dien was in need of and handed it over with the sword, pulling in the precious coins to his own register.

“I also need one,” Shell said timidly, placing Gakaku on the counter. The sword held a very faint blue aura about it, signaling its watery nature. The man behind the counter looked down at the blade and picked it up.
“How does a wavemistress like you come in charge of such a blade?” he asked.
“Uh,” Shell replied, fumbling over words in her mind; unsure of how to explain it.
“She’s just borrowing it,” Dien replied, “from a friend.”
“That so?” he asked, turning to face the timid girl. She nodded as the blade was set down. “Very well then, I’ll let you have one of these for 2GP as well.” While she dug the cash from her pocket, the man retrieved the item from his stash
“Take the blade,” Dien whispered into her ear, not wanting to lose Gakaku over some mistake. She nodded, hesitantly wrapping her soft fingers about the hilt of the sword and picking it up. Within a moment the clerk had returned, bearing the jar grabber in his hand.
“Here you are,” he said, handing her jar grabber as she handed him the pair of coins, “have a nice day.”
”You too,” Dien said as they turned around. The clerk went back to polishing his sword, and the exiting blademaster sheathed both of his swords.
“Dien,” Shell said, “can we hurry up out of here? All these blades are scaring me.”
“Sure,” he said, stepping up the pace toward the door. It wasn’t exactly the place he wanted to be either. All those blades hanging from the ceiling with the bones of that monster were a frightening image to be sure. In any case, the door was found and the two quickly exited into the main hall of the factory.

“Let’s go there, next,” said Shell, pointing to a sign that read, ‘Hojik Shop.’

“You’re the boss,” Dien remarked, following her lead to the shop across the factory. Under the massive machinery and around the scaffolding that held it up the two went, carefully weaving through various pipes and tubes that made their way to the floor until at last, they arrived at the door of this shop. It was a wooden double-door that concealed what was within from the outside, and opening it found good reason for that. A dimly-lit room housed several tables and, surprisingly enough, a stage. Dien couldn’t imagine what it was for, until an older balding man walked up to them with his stomach hanging out of a wife-beater (looking much like Carl from Aqua Teen Hunger Force).

”Yeah what do you want?[/i] he asked, setting whatever obviously alcoholic beverage was in his right hand.
“What wares do you have?” Dien asked very matter-of-factly.
“I got food here, and also lid-lifters.” The man replied.
“That’s an…interesting combination,” Shell said, still trying to digest it, “we’ll take two lid lifters, please.”
“That’ll be a thousand GP,” said the man, “unless you’re both willin’ to get up on that stage and show us what you’ve got.” His gaze trailed down Shell’s figure, only to find Dien’s sword at his throat.
“Don’t even think about it, bub,” he said, “she ain’t showin’ you nothing.”
“Relax, Dien,” she said, taking something out of her hair and letting it fall, “this place is empty anyway, and besides, I don’t mind it.”
“But I do,” he replied. It was a lost cause as she walked toward the stage. The man was chuckling to himself as she began walking.
“You know I was only kiddin’,” he said, “right, toots?”
“So no discount?” she asked, stopping right in front of the stage.
“No, there’s still a discount, but you don’t have to take anything off. Just gimme a dance and you’ll get the lid-lifter cheap.”
“How cheap?” Dien asked, turning to face the man and obviously not in a happy mood.
“30 GP a pop,” he said, “that is, if you dance too it is.” It was Dien’s worst nightmare. Sure, he had more than enough money to cover the cost of buying one, but at the moment his change purse was growing fairly thin. Dancing was the only alternative for him, and he was possibly the whitest boy out there. He couldn’t dance for crap. At the moment, however, it was Shell’s time to shine. Up on stage she stood as the lights grew dimmer, canceling out all sights she might have had at any potential audience. Then, a spotlight was shined on her from the back, perfectly illuminating her. Neither of them had prepared anything; neither of them had known they would be dancing.

Shell’s eyes remained closed for a moment, and the lights began to dim once again until all was black. At that instant, the music began, a mystical single synthesized note played. Backlighting illuminated the silhouette of the girl against the black curtains behind her, when suddenly the music picked up after the words, “let’s party,” echoed through the room. Lights flashed on, and the girl did some very impressive dance steps, sliding, jumping, twisting, shaking, and otherwise just wowing the hell out of Dien and the Carl look-alike. Then, almost as soon as the song had begun, it ended, leaving Shell breathing heavily with one hand on the stage and her other arm outstretched behind her in one hell of a final pose.

Vigorous applause came from the two spectators (as vigorous as can come from those with such small numbers). The wavemistress looked up with a smile, sweat having beaded on her forehead in spite of the air conditioning in the room, and then it hit Dien; he had no clue what he was going to do. It was his turn to put on a show. With a sigh he stepped forward, not having any clue where the music had come from with Shell’s dance.

There were two emotions that flooded through Dien at this time; sheer dread at the thought of dancing on stage in front of people, and a reserved sad feeling about how he wouldn’t get to pay the discount price if the dance weren’t good enough. The sadness dominated most of his walk to the stage, sending his sights to the floor. What am I going to do? he thought, slowly sauntering past chairs and their lack of occupants. Shell had begun making her way back to where he had been observing her from, and the two met before he got to the stage.

“You’ll do fine,” she said, noting the saddened look on his features, “once you get up there, the music starts playing and you start dancing. It’s beyond your control, but when it happens it’s just so awesome!” Her enthusiasm was an unneeded weight thrown on top of the burden he already wielded. Now I have to live up to her accomplishments too, he thought, just great.

His stride left him standing dead center in the middle of the stage, where almost immediately the lights began to die down. He caught a last glimpse of Shell turning around to face him while standing next to…Carl. He had to say he didn’t know much about the series, but from the look of things, the obese drunkard was, on top of that, a lecher. All went completely black, and then, just as it had done with the wavemistress, the spotlight flashed on him from the back of the room. Seemingly, everything was drowned out in the light, leaving the blademaster alone in a completely white atmosphere.

“Hello?” he asked, only to have an echo come back to him. Then, something strange happened. Instead of dying out like most echoes would, his began to morph into a different sort of phrase.
“Please select your music,” it said. The voice disappeared from existence immediately after Dien had made out its message.
“Take me out of here,” he replied, “I need to go back.”
“Selection made; Franz Ferdinand – Take Me Out.” Just then the light faded, leaving him on stage with nothing but the clothes and equipment he wore. Just then, a single note on a guitar struck, repeating into a very solid pulse.
“So if you’re lonely,” the words began, “you know I’m here, waiting for you.
I’m just a cross-hair,
I’m just a shot away from you.
And if you leave here,
You leave me broken; shattered I lie
We’re just a cross-hair,
We’re just a shot-then we can die.
Aaa-aa-aaaah” At this point both Gakaku and Zenganshon were drawn from Dien’s side slowly in either hand, wielded like a twinblade would wield his knives.

“I know I will be leaving here,
With you.” With that, the blades pointed themselves toward Shell in the back, and his body began to move, gyrating in time with the slowing pulse of the song that morphed ever so quickly into a firm, driving beat. Then, initially, Dien bounced into a flip, holding the blades out at his sides and using the twirling momentum. To spin them around in his palms in time with the music, their timing very similar to numchucks in that they twirled all about his body in a very fast, flashy tempo, but that he also never lost control of them. As the song progressed, more and more acrobatic feats were thrown into the mixture, along with periods during which one or both of the swords were tossed into the air until the climactic stop before the last chorus, in which one blade was spun faster than any of them had witnessed on the stage yet while the other was thrown so high into the air that it seemed impossible to catch. All the while the words of the song ticked along with its pulsing beat and in the end, found Dien kneeling on the floor, bowing to the audience with his swords stuck out behind him like wings.

Where did that come from? he asked himself, breathing heavily and standing up with a smile. Shell and the Carl person were both applauding his performance, even though he’d not had any clue where the music had come from.
“Very good,” the man said, “very good.” Dien bowed again, sweat pouring out of his skin as he shoved the swords back into their sheaths. These two swords are getting me a lot, he thought to himself, jumping to the ground off the stage. The one thing he had dreaded the most out of this ordeal he had surpassed and ascended from. Dancing, it seemed, came naturally to him.

“What was that?” he asked the man, wiping the sweat off his face with the same handkerchief that had saved him from poison before.
“That was a monster, believe it or not,” the man said, much to the surprise of Shell and Dien, “or rather, a massive data glitch. You see, that monster was supposed to emulate the target’s worst fears. However, a bug in the system caused it to be able to unleash some sort of joyful potential within them. I don’t know what it is, but it gets me good business.” He continued the monologue for a whole ten minutes about how he’d found the monster and trained it, and about how he ran his little establishment with it to earn quite the pretty penny, and also how business had been slacking lately. “…so you see,” he continued, coming closer to an end than anyone realized, “I applied for help from the CC Corporation, and they chose my shop to help them run their Applesauce thing. I figured, ‘hey, if it brings in the dough, who cares what I’ve gotta do?’ and so here I am, selling you these two lid lifters for a grand total of 60 GP.”
“That’s it?” Dien asked, having caught every word of the man’s ramblings.
“Yeah,” he said, “30 apiece.”
“Good deal,” Shell replied, digging out the money, “thanks.”
“The same deal goes for everyone,” he said, handing her a lid lifter. Dien had dug out his money by that time also and handed over the cash.
“Thanks, sir,” he replied. Shell had already begun to leave when the man grabbed Dien by the arm.
“You know,” he said, “between you and me, you’ve got a fine specimen right there; a real thing of beauty.”
“What of it?” Dien replied, missing the obvious implication that they were attached.
“I’ll give you a refund if the girl takes off her shirt.” With that, Dien lost it. His fist was clenched on contact with the man’s jaw, sending him flying across the room and into one of the tables. Shell had stopped and turned around to see what the commotion was about.
“What’s wrong, Dien?” she asked innocently.
“Nothing,” he replied, his fist sore from its first real use in the world, “let’s keep moving.”

Pots, jars, jar grabbers, and lid lifters in hands, the pair of players made their way to yet another shop in the quest for excellent applesauce. This shop was simply known as, “Funnel Cake.” Within, eyes were laid upon fine pastries and other delicacies that were contained in a glass display case. The walls were lined with various other simpler cooking utensils such as wooden spoons, small bowls, measuring cups, and many other things useful for the everyday chef. However, as they approached a counter that was vacant save for a bell and old-fashioned cash register, and a glass display showing off some finer pastries and other such things.

After some five minutes of standing at the aforementioned counter without a word between them, Shell opened her mouth once again.
“Dien,” she said, and he turned to face her, “back at Dun Loiraeg, I…” her voice shied away as her gaze turned to look at the floor they had previously walked over, “I don’t know what came over me. I just saw you standing there next to me on that beautiful field, and I, well, I couldn’t stop myself.” She turned to face him again, a very serious tone covering her normally radiant countenance. “I wanted to apologize for-“ At that point, Dien had put his hand over her mouth essentially to stop speech.
“Don’t apologize,” he said, “the fault was mine. You may have kissed me, but I was the one who kissed back. I’m sorry for taking advantage of you like that.” The girl chuckled lightly behind his hand and then pushed it off with her own.
“You’re such a gentleman;” she said, “you know that chivalry is dead, right?”
“Nah,” he replied, “I don’t believe it.” She chuckled slightly, her gaze shifting down toward one of the pastries under the display case.
“You’re so nice to me,” she replied, turning up to face him again, “no one’s ever been this nice to me.”
“Obviously they never knew you,” the blademaster replied. For once the wavemistress had been found with a lack of words, and blushed, looking yet again to the floor. The two stood facing one another in that form for quite some time in silence, each one staring into pensive nothingness. Just then, a third voice came in to the picture.

“Can I help you?” she asked, the French in her voice coming through like the sun comes through the sky at dawn.
“Yes,” said Shell, quick to reply, “we’re wondering what you’re selling for the Applesauce Day event.”
“Pardone moi?” the girl behind the counter replied in French with a most inquisitive look on her face.
“What do you sell?” Dien asked more clearly. The girl smiled, opening her mouth with an, “ah,” as though it had all been made that much more clear to her.
“We sell these jar funnels for applesauce,” she said, “if you light a stove, that is.”
“Huh?” Dien asked, very confused at that last statement.
“Light a stove and you get a jar funnel.” Came the clerk’s frank reply.
“I see,” Shell said, “Dien, to get the jar funnel we need to light their stove for them.” The French girl nodded, and the blademaster sighed. My last fire scroll… He knew that this was the situation where he’d have to part ways with the thing, but still, he couldn’t help feeling some sense of duty to the newest scroll he’d bought. This is silly, Dien, he thought, being led into the back of the shop, it’s a freakin’ scroll.

The girl had opened the door to her stove to show what indeed were the empty innards of a stove. Wood, he thought, noticing a freshly-chopped pile of the stuff on the ground in front of the scorching machine.
“Very well,” he said, taking some wood and placing it in the stove. His hands carefully unfurled the Fire Tempest, and he aimed it at the stove’s wood-filled compartment, “Fire Tempest.” The words caused the scroll to dissipate from his hands, and he watched as the equivalent of a Vak Rom ignited within the blackened chamber, spilling heat and magic energy out into the room.
“Merci,” the girl said, “pour vous.” She presented the jar funnel to Dien and he turned to watch Shell. The girl’s fire wand permitted her to cast a very useful Vak Don, igniting what logs she had hidden within.
“Et, pour elle.” She handed Dien another of the oddly-shaped funnels.
“Thanks,” he said as the wavemistress returned, “this is for you.” He handed off the jar funnel and smiled to the French woman. The smile was returned, and the pair made their way out of the shop.

“French?” Shell asked, turning to Dien.
“Yeah,” he said, “or at least her IP address said so.”
“Wait,” she replied, stopping her stride, “you could tell where she was from just by looking at her IP address?”
“Well yeah,” Dien replied, “I’m a hacker. At the snap of a finger you’d be naked, if I willed it.”
“Sure,” Shell replied, turning to face him, “prove it.” With that Dien sighed, holding up his hand in a formation to snap his fingers.
“Still don’t believe me?” he asked, giving her time to shake her head. Oh well, he thought, applying pressure through his thumb to his other finger, she asked for it. The resulting click echoed around the factory, and for a moment nothing happened.
“Was that supposed to do something?” Shell asked, cockily unaware of the lack of clothing now on her body. Dien merely smirked.
“Look down,” he said, pointing to her body. She did so, only to frantically try to cover herself up. Another snap had the clothing back in its original position.
“You jerk,” she said, shaking the outer layers of clothing to loosen them up as she walked over to him.
“You’re the one who asked for it,” he reminded her. All she could do then was blush. It was the truth; she had asked for a demonstration. She looked off to the side, her eyes having narrowed slightly with shame.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dien said, throwing his arm over her shoulder, “at least it was a private exhibition.” That was also true, and it confused Dien for quite some time. How can the factory still be empty? Did the rest of the event’s participants know something he didn’t know? Wait, how was the smoke coming out of the stack if the machines weren’t running? Something about this scenario didn’t feel right, but he had no time to worry about that now.

Lazily, he and Shell sauntered over to the last shop that this place contained. The Magic Shop was a well known name in and of itself; every server had one. He could only guess why one of the shops had shown up here in the middle of nowhere to vend things. The front doors of the shop opened, and Dien walked in followed by Shell.

“Ooo! Customers!” came the excited cry from the counter in the back. There were about a half-dozen long, slender aisles between the entrance and the place where the player stood behind a counter. To be honest, Dien couldn’t make out a gender, and as they grew closer to the figure, the blademaster grew more and more puzzled. Hermaphrodite?

“What can I get for you?” his, or rather its voice asked in a middle tone.
“Umm, you sell spoons for the Applesauce event, right?” Shell replied, not showing as much confusion at the person before them.
“That’s right, ma’am,” the clerk replied, “or pretty close. We’re actually bartering them for scrolls to fill our shop up.”
“I see,” Dien said, still glancing funnily at the…thing. There’s really nothing else one can classify a hermaphrodite as in terms of gender-specifics. In any case, Dien reached into his supply bag and pulled out one of the water scrolls he’d recently purchased, “will this get me a spoon?” The player took his parchment and examined it.
“Level one Ice Flow,” it replied, “yes, this will do fine.” A large wooden spoon was placed on the counter as the scroll was cleverly hidden in the chamber behind its top. Dien couldn’t help but glance at Shell as she handed over her scroll with a smile. My God, she’s pretty, he thought to himself, staring rather obviously at her.
“Thank you,” the double-gendered phenomenon said from behind the counter, “have a nice day.”
“You too,” Shell replied. Normally Dien had done most of the talking in the shops, but something had held him back in there, and it had showed. He didn’t know what the feeling had been, but there was a sense of distrust for the person who had stood behind the counter. It wasn’t anything normal, but still, it couldn’t have been helped.

Why are you here? a voice asked. It was not his own.

Who are you and what do you want? he replied from within. His mind had been turned inward. He could still see Shell through his eyes, and she had turned to face him. From her vantage he was standing, still as ever, his eyes gazing forward.

This is not your place, the voice replied, Why are you here?

What do you mean? he replied, it’s my body…

No, came the chilling reply of the voice, it’s mine.

“Dien?” Shell replied. He could hear her voice, but for some reason couldn’t control himself any longer. A cold, helpless gaze was shifted toward her, and he could feel his knees beginning to tremble. His vision began to blur, and the last thing he could see was her face bent over him. All feeling left his body as black faded over his eyes, slowly sending him to a different world.
__________

A sudden light shocked Dien into consciousness. All around him a brilliant white light shone forth, as though a fog were generating such light in and of itself. He could feel his body again- every inch of it. Back in control, he thought. He was lying flat on the ground, or at least what he thought was the ground.
“Who are you and what is your purpose?” came the same voice from before. The air seemed to grow warmer as he lay there.
“I am Dien,” he replied, “where am I?”
“So you were occupying my body,” the voice returned, “you are no longer needed.”
“I beg your pardon,” Dien said, “but without me that body ceases to function and exist. Now where are we?!”
“Don’t you recognize it?” the voice asked again. Dien remained expressionless, staring into the light. “It’s your own mind.”
“What?” he asked, “that’s absurd! The game’s safeguards protect against mental inscription; this can’t be my mind!”
“Take a closer look,” the voice said. The blademaster squinted, staring into the white fog. Out of nowhere an image formulated in front of his prostrate figure. It was himself as a child. He was playing with a big red playground ball when he looked up to smile at his older sister. The image brought tears to his eyes; he remembered that event in exact detail the way the image was portraying. Please, God, he thought to himself, don’t let them show what happens next. Out of nowhere a deafening bang echoed through the air. The image shifted to his view, and he saw his sister’s face go expressionless as blood poured out down the side of her face.

“Stop,” he said quietly, wincing his eyes shut, “make it stop.”
“Is it painful,” the voice said, “to see this again?”
“You see it too; living through it once was hell,” he said, “what do you think the answer to that is?” His head was bowed, and a tear dripped from his face, falling into the mist and nothingness.
“Maybe there is a use for you,” the voice replied, “but I must take my body now.”
“What don’t you understand?” Dien called, “It’s my body!” No cold reply echoed back to him through the fog. What warmth had been growing near now faded to an empty cold as he lay there, regretting his past mistakes. Had his eyes remained open, he would have seen the fog slowly fade and place him in the midst of a flurry of walls, streets, and byways. Tears streamed down the sides of his face as gentle sobs echoed through the area.
__________

“Dien!” called a voice. Is that what he goes by? the character thought.
“Wake up!” the same voice called again. A companion?
“Please, Dien!” With that last request, the eyes of the blademaster opened.
“Where am I?” he asked. His eyes set upon the sight of Shell kneeling over him.
“Dien!” she exclaimed in happiness, throwing her arms around him, “Thank God you’re alright!” He remained speechless, looking at the character before him. Shell, wavemaster, level 3… his mind ticked off the information regarding the figure and he slowly sat up, returning her embrace as was natural. He could never understand human emotions.

As though following a hummingbird in its path, his eyes bounced about, taking in every aspect of the room and its contents. This place is not suitable, he thought, I need more fire. A handful of doors here and there, some massive machinery there, and a high vaulted ceiling made the entity now in control of Dien’s body feel ever more uncomfortable.
“We must leave,” he said, slowly rising to his feet and looking around as though in terror.
“Yeah,” Shell replied, standing next to the figure as he spun about, looking up toward the ceiling, “we’ve gotta go to the Sigma server for some cinnamon. We’re meeting up with Teya and Chapman there, too.” Teya and Chapman…? He had never heard the names before, but knew them to be familiar somehow.
“Then let us depart,” he said, turning to face the wavemistress.
“Riiiiight,” she nodded, a little weirded out by his behavior, “come on, goofball.” She took his hand, and together they gated back to the Theta server root-town of Dun Loiraeg.
__________

Where am I? Dien thought to himself, sitting up in whatever town or city he was in. He was lying on his back in the midst of a cobblestone road. To his right, a curb seemed the end of the world overlooking the ocean, while to his left, a doorway in a short rectangle cut off the image of an otherwise steep hill with plateaus every few yards. At the top was an ancient Greek temple of sorts, and overhead, the sky seemed to echo the glimmer of the setting sun off the water. It was a pretty sight to be sure, but the town seemed long-since abandoned.

“Hello?” he asked, his voice echoing off the wall to the ocean again. A light caught his attention streaming down the side of the edifice to his left, and as he stood, he could see the temple in the center of an acropolis gleaming light out in all directions. At this time of day, the light rivaled that of the sun and seemed to almost mirror its intensity. Mirror? The thought intrigued the blademaster as he looked to the peak of the city, a sheer peak rising high into the sky above it. The place was hidden from anything outside and Dien could feel the mystical air just flood his being as he stood there. He couldn’t help but close his eyes and take it in, breathing deeply of this cool, clean air. All the cares of the World seemed to leave as he exhaled, and somehow, he knew he had to get to the top.

That light, he thought, beginning to move, I gotta find out what’s making that light. There was no way for him to move up the levels of the city that he could see. Alright, how? Then it hit him; the game world allowed him to jump into the air up to five feet; that would get him halfway up one of the levels of this city on a hill. It’s all or nothing, he thought, jumping as high as he could at the wall before him, hoping to catch one of the rounded stones to continue an upward climb. The next level was made quickly, or at least what he thought was the next level. In all actuality, it was the roof of the building that had been in front of him. The level itself was some 20 feet taller. Well that works, he thought, but how the hell am I gonna get up there? He could feel a slight breeze coming in off the ocean, and he turned to face it. The sun sure was brilliant; just about as bright as the light he was trying to reach.

For a good while he shifted his gaze between the two lights, the one on the hill’s crest seeming to become greater and greater as the day faded into night. Soon it became the only light in the city, but its intensity made the night like day. Stars were faint above, and then it came back to Dien. How the hell do I get to it? He wasn’t about to try the jump and climb thing again; it took too much energy.

Nothing came to him as he glanced about, trying to find some faster way he could use to make it to the top of the hill. I have Ap Ganz, he thought to himself, hastily considering his options. Very quickly he had removed the bandanna and replaced it with his Head Gear. Let’s hope this works…

“Ap Ganz!” He called, trying to boost his earth attribute as much as possible. Two or three more times he called the skill, boosting his earth attribute quite a few times. He could only hope it would last long enough for him to get to the top unharmed. It had slipped his mind completely that he’s just gone over his SP limit, but at the moment, it didn’t really matter. What did matter was the careful timing he was going to need.

“Gan Zot!” he called, aiming the spell at the end of the building. Hopefully it would be enough. The spires began to shoot up off the surface of the thing, and he charged into his own spell, attempting to ride one of the faster spires until momentum shot him upward and over the top of the wall. Granted, he would be hurt in the process, but that’s why he had his bandanna handy. His efforts paid off nicely, depositing him on the next level of the city. Deep gouges in his back, legs, arms, and torso were cured with a Repth (powered by the replaced Bandanna). He could feel his stone element still as strong as it had been, and it was likely what had saved him from death by rocks. I have to do it again, he thought as he stood. Bruises covered his body as he did, and blood seeped out of his lips. It was gonna be a long climb.
__________

“Sigma, Baking Desperate Frying Pot!” the female player called out, gripping him by the hand. They were standing before a large spinning disc of what seemed to be water. Water, he thought with a shudder as his body was surrounded by a set of rings. The next thing he knew, he was in a field where the smell of volcanic gas lined every breath, while the ground seemed ready to boil beneath them with every step. Jets of hot steam shot up here and there while if one listened, they would be able to hear the rush of lava beneath their feet.

“Home,” he said, opening the blademaster’s mouth and emitting the word from it.
“Huh?” Shell asked turning toward him.
“This place,” he replied, controlling the voice more naturally, “home.”
“Stop acting so creepy, Dien,” she said, turning around. A loud bark was heard from behind, and the blademaster’s body turned, eyes setting themselves on the Sled Dog King that was bounding toward them (Sled Dog King: lv. 55, 2250 HP – meaning absolute suicide for any player below level 30). His hand shoved thee girl beside him to the ground as he drew a sword from his side. This is not the sword I remember, he thought, giving it a quick brandish at the fierce canine that approached him.

A cry escaped him as he charged in to battle (or more appropriately, suicide) with the dog. Out of nowhere in front of him, a massive whirlwind of flame was formed.
“Peh,” the blademaster said, “you think that can stop me?” It had already begun to consume his flesh, and he stepped into its core, essentially burning himself to eternity.

”Dien!” Shell called from outside, her voice not strong enough to carry into the ears of the now engulfed blademaster. “Repth!” she cried, attempting to keep him alive. All the while the possessive overseeing soul stood, arms outstretched in the blaze. Is this what they call pain? it thought, the clothing and armor gone as his flesh began to burn. The pain, however was not enough to overcome its foolish pride, and as the body began to pulsate with red pulses, a blue water surrounded it, replacing the lost muscle and skin. Still, it would continue to decimate him for as long as he stood in the flame, and he had no intention of moving.
__________

In, and out. In, and out. The deep breathing of the blademaster showed his utter fatigue and exhaustion as he passed to the topmost level of the acropolis. Sweat poured down his face as the light from in front of him forced him to wince. How did I survive that? he thought, falling prostrate to the ground, I should be dead…

“Come forth!” came a booming voice from the direction of the light. He turned his head toward it, wincing to get a good glimpse of what was making the light. Eyes were blurring into and out of focus as his breathing remained heavy. 20 levels had been passed to get here, each one calling him to run into the heart of a rampaging horde of earthen spires. Somehow he had to move, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not.

“I,” he began weakly, pushing the words through his pain, “I can’t.” His breathing continued heavily, showing as a clear sign of injury. His stomach was in knots, and he could feel his muscles torn and his skin battered. It was likely that he’d broken all of his ribs by this point, but it didn’t matter.

“Come forth!” the voice commanded again with more emphasis. He stared in disbelief at the temple. He was clearly in great distress. The last Repth had done little more to him than close the pressure-relieving gashes in his body. He was worn out, but some obstinate part of him still had something to prove. His arms lifted, placing the palms flat on the ground. Every ounce of his remaining strength was summoned to lift his broken body off the cobblestone pavement and onto his feet. Haphazardly he stood and stumbled forward, each step pulling more and more strength from the very essence of his being. I’m so close, he thought, reaching his hand toward the light as his eyes focused in on it. The image bobbed down and up before him as it grew nearer and nearer.

No! his mind exclaimed as his body began to fail. His eyes had been set on the prize, but now all he could do was stare at it as his body once again collapsed to the earth, ending up only a few steps closer to the light that had first inspired his ascension. “No,” he protested again, but his body couldn’t take it and his eyes slowly closed.
__________

“MeRue Rom!” came the call from elsewhere. The body had nearly been charred down to the bone once again. Still, the controlling entity held it there, eyes closed and head leaned back as the fire engulfed everything around him (including some of him). Just then, however, the spell stopped.

“Pha Repth!” the voice echoed again, and the flesh and clothing was returned to Dien’s body. It stood, turning to face the new players on this field. There was another man there, and a girl wearing considerably less clothing.

“Dien,” the new girl called, “just because we weren’t here waiting for you doesn’t mean you have the right to go Emo on us.” She walked forward as the man sprinted into battle, taking something off his head and turning it into an axe in his hands. Within two strikes, the dog that had wreaked havoc on the blademaster’s body was down for the count, turning into a chest of cinnamon.

“You had me worried,” Shell said, walking up to and putting her hand on Dien’s face, “please don’t do that again.” An indignant stare was returned to the girl as he looked down upon her figure.
“I need your pity not,” he said, shoving her to the side.
“Dien?” she asked, a timid look overtaking her form.
“That is what they call this body, isn’t it?” he asked, turning about. Apparently the rest of the pack of dogs had showed up, only this time things would be different. A look of cruel determination covered his features as he ran, drawing Zenganshon and holding it in a position to take down as many of the creatures as possible. Jugular vein, neck, skull, heart, abdomen, mechanically his mind went through the areas that would yield a critical hit from him were he to strike there. The blade glowed with a dark blue color as he ran, its rare holiness being tarnished by the evil now controlling his body.

One. Two. Three! The dogs were dropping like flies at the hands of the blade’s wielder, each hit yielding “TRIPLE CRITICAL” to shoot up from the wound and the bodies to fade into cinnamon-containing chests. He didn’t care about that; all that controlled him was the desire to gain power and test out the body that had once belonged to him.

“Freeze, Dien,” said the Heavy Axeman, standing in his path, “you can’t beat me.”
“Try me,” he dared, licking some of the fiery blood that had remained on the sword into his mouth and then swallowing.
“You fool,”
__________

“Come forth!” The most recent call had stirred Dien back into consciousness. He could feel every muscle in his body crying for relief from just his having woken up, and every nerve ending in his skin was begging him to be still. Those were not orders he could comply with, though, and he knew he had to get to the light. Try as he might, however, his flustered muscles could not continue their trek, only a twitch came from his left arm on call. Not good, he thought. He could see the light beginning to grow dimmer and dimmer before him as it gained a tint of red.

The sudden stinging pain of blood in his eyes gave him the adrenaline needed, and as they pinched shut, he reached up, forcing at least his arms into submission. His sorry carcass was dragged across the remaining cobblestone to the smooth, flat surface of the temple. He’d made it to the top, and could feel the light radiating in and through him. The muscles relaxed as he lay within the temple’s bounds.

“Who are you, and why have you come?” the voice asked again.
“I came,” Dien managed, each word a silent war to say, “to see…the light…”
“Why?” the voice replied sternly.
“I,” Dien began, having to take a moment to breathe, “don’t know. I just…came…”
“Like a moth to the flame,” he heard, and his blood-filled eyes looked up to see the form of a massive aviary in flames standing before him with wings spread. The light would have rendered him blind in the real world, but here he could just revel at it.
“What of it?” the blademaster muttered, his breath beginning to come back to him normally now.
“Now, in your own mind,” the bird replied, “you die.” A sudden rush of heat pelted the grounded body of the hacker as he lay on the floor, unable to do anything. He could feel the flesh of his back becoming alight in flames as he puzzled over the words his oppressor had just said. Wait, he thought, it’s my mind. In all suddenness the flames had stopped and Dien stood, completely unharmed.

“Impossible!” The bird replied, launching yet another fiery attack at him. This time, though, Dien held up his hand and caught the burden of the flaming energy.
“Not in my mind,” he replied. The ball of fire in his hand suddenly turned a brilliant blue-white and began to shimmer with the light of the fire of the bird. “Take this!” He held his hand forward, launching the newly-contained ice-energy at the bird. The single shot sent the bird flying into the mountainside, taking out a few of the temple’s support columns on the way.
“Get out,” Dien commanded, upping the dosage of cold energy being delivered to the bird. It was being pinned to the wall by its antithesis, and he could hear it beginning to gasp for breath. He clenched his fist, closing in the remaining energy and sending it surging through his system.
“Don’t think this is over!” The bird called, taking off from its mountainside crater and soaring off into the air.
__________

The body of the blademaster flew back, spinning uncontrollably until landing with a thud. A jet of steam shot up right next to his head, giving him minor burns across his face. Just then, a shriek was heard as what appeared to be a veil of steam rose from Dien’s body. Like a red cloud it went flying off into the distance, disappearing from sight and mind.

“Repth,” Dien said, allowing the healing waters to cover his body and heal the wounds. He sat up, wondering why Zenganshon was held in his hand so firmly (and why it had blood on it).

“EeeeeaaaaaaAAAAAAAAHHHHH!” he heard as John Chapman made a run toward him, wielding his axe high above his head in an attempt to crush Dien. His eyes widened and he rolled out of the way, scrambling to his feet and getting into a defensive stance. The shot of adrenaline had set his heart doing near 110 beats a minute, and sweat began to pour down his face.

”John!” he called, “Why are you attacking me?!”
“You started it,” came the reply, “don’t act foolish.” Another charge this time sent Dien flying back with his sword held defensively in front of him; his hand on the flat of the blade.
“You idiot,” he replied, knowing this player obviously out-classed him, “will you stop and listen for a minute?!” The next charge came to a halt.
“Put away your sword,” the player said, stopping some five feet away, “then I’ll talk.” Rolling his eyes, Dien plunged Zenganshon into the ground for cleansing before sheathing the blade. His eyes shifted to Appleseed for approval, and he gave a small nod.
“Now,” Dien said, “I wasn’t in control when I attacked you. I’m sorry for anything that might have been done, but please, let’s just finish this thing off.”
“Just promise me one thing,” said the otherwise foolish axe-wielder, “you won’t stab me in the back.”
“Why would I do that to the famous Johnny Appleseed?” Dien asked. He couldn’t see Shell or Teya in the area, but figured they’d probably already completed the task necessary to get some cinnamon.

In any case, Appleseed immediately gated out, telling Dien to meet up at the Sigma Root Town’s armory for cooking. He nodded and sighed, still completely unsure just how he was going to get the needed last ingredient. Then it hit him; no I mean seriously, his method for getting the cinnamon hit him and sent him rolling across the ground. Another dog glared at him, its massive paws sending miniature shockwaves through the earth with each step.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Dien said, mentally fatigued and really not wanting to have to deal with this now. The Sled Dog King growled and pounced, pinning Dien under razor-sharp paws. He would have asked his friends for assistance, but apparently they’d all left. Crap… He could feel his bones being crushed as the dog leaned forward, pressing its full weight onto his torso and essentially squeezing him to death.

“Revolver!” he called out, hoping the skill wouldn’t kill him in his sideways form. Quite the opposite, in fact, was true. The blade Zenganshon rebounded off the hard earth and the paw a half-dozen times, rending the canine’s foot mincemeat, and also allowing the blademaster ample time to get out from under the massive and deadly paw. Just then, a massive wad of fire collapsed on him from above; a RaVak Don. Without a second thought he’d dug one of the icy scrolls from his pack and cast it on himself, leaping skyward to intercept just as the two spells’ energies collided. He could feel his skin charring as he passed through the fire spell, although the convergence of ice had weakened it considerably, he’d need to heal afterward.

“Crack Beat! Skill Drain!” he called, firing off the sword’s spells in rapid succession. The midsection of the massive Cerberus-of-a-dog was rendered open while Dien could feel his body sinking into the still boiling hot air below. Double crap… He hadn’t had time to heal himself, and now fell head-long into the flame beneath him. He knew he’d only dealt a handful of blows to the deadly dog, but also knew that it didn’t end with that. His body died, and was removed from the game.
__________

Jed sat up from his chair almost instantly, seeing the game over screen in front of him. He exited out of the window and opened up his programming device, quickly typing up some 25 lines of complex code to bring him back to that field if he got killed from it. His headphones were placed back on within 2 minutes of his having been killed, and once again, he was in the World.
__________

“Sigma, Baking Desperate Frying Pot!” he called as he ran, his feet taking him to the Chaos Gate faster and faster. Almost immediately the rings had surrounded his character, and he knew that he wouldn’t be logged out so quickly this time. His eyes opened on the burning field, and almost immediately in front of him was the massive mammal with a bloody front paw and a roaring fire beneath him. There he is, he thought, unsheathing Zenganshon and charging into battle once again. The dog was quick to notice him, and soon did the same, running at Dien in spite of a nasty limp. Dien leapt into the air, twirling with the spinning spell of his borrowed sword. Blood spurted out as clanks and clings echoed through the area. The dog’s nose and front teeth had been hit by Dien’s attack, and now he fell to the earth once again.

Almost limply his body bounced on the earth, Zenganshon twirling through the air from Dien’s lost grip. Strange, he thought, putting his hands on the earth to feel it unnaturally warm, could it be…? Without a second thought, his hand resumed Zenganshon’s grip. The smell of burning human greeted his nostrils, and the pain from his hand soon thereafter. The sword had become super-heated. Nonetheless, he held on to it, knowing his hand would be useless for a good while if this maneuver worked.

The dog left him no time to think, though, after it had stopped yelping and scratching at its snout, it set its gaze on Dien. I have to soften the earth, he thought, it’s the only way. His hands grasped for the three remaining scrolls in his pack; the ice floe to keep the dog occupied and the Ice Storms to freeze the earth for a moment.

“Ice Floe!” he called, holding the scroll toward the massive beast and hoping to fend him off for at least the casting of the other two ice scrolls.

“Ice Storm! Ice Storm!” he called, pointing the scrolls at the ground. I’ve gotta be quick. Even as he thought this the dog approached him, growling fiercely as blood dripped off the end of its snout. The spells finished, and Dien stood, taking Zen behind his head and hoping the sword’s other physical attack would live up to its namesake.

“Crack Beat!” He shouted, bringing the sword down to the earth and slamming it into the sheet of ice that had covered much of it. The crystalline surface cracked, and shards went flying as the skill’s impact continued its effects. Even then the dog had rammed him onto the cracking surface of ice that was subliming in this air. Just a little more pressure, he thought, and then, he got his wish. The dog followed him onto the ice, pinning him under its two massive front paws again.

Now, he thought, and right on cue, the ice shattered into a steamy column, replaced by a fountain of the hottest substance on earth’s surface; magma. The game’s creators had conveniently placed the stuff all around the World, but it had never been so useful as it was now. Dien’s body was incinerated on contact with the stuff, but he could only hope that the pressured contents had had a more serious effect on the dog. His eyes closed, and his body faded yet again, logging him out, and then back in to the same spot as before.

Just how he’d managed to stay alive in such proximity to the lava was beyond Dien. He stood some three feet away from the jet that now shot skyward. He heard a growl from within, and leaped backward, stopping some 20 feet from the shooting jet. It was a fearsome sight to be sure; the dog’s head sticking through the lava with its flesh burnt down to the bone in some places and other places still well on fire. Its teeth were showing in full whiteness toward the blademaster, and he knew he had but one option left; suicide.

It was a technique he’d seen in many action movies before; get swallowed, and then tear the thing apart from the inside out (Men in Black, War of the Worlds, etc.). Now, as the remains of the dog’s body must have been plummeting into the lower triple digits, Dien figured he had no choice. With one last charge, he ran toward the dog, praying he wouldn’t get killed before his chance passed him up. Its jaws opened, allowing Dien to peer down its throat before it would consume him.

He sheathed Zenganshon, knowing that he would need to hold onto it until the right moment before activating its effect. For now, he just had to worry about getting past those teeth and lodging himself in the throat. With a dive, he protruded willingly into the canine’s vast mouth. A sudden pain echoed up his leg and side as the teeth had been clenched down. He looked down in horror as what had been his leg now was his…stump. Blood poured from the empty stub, but Dien would not cry out. His task was simple; deliver the final blow without dying. He felt the jaw begin to open again in an attempt to chew, but he wouldn’t let it happen.

With his good leg and arms, he furiously climbed up through the dog’s mouth, reaching the throat before the next bite had been made. His plan was simple; lodge himself in the dog’s throat or windpipe and use a revolver to behead it (or bring it close to a beheaded state). Two tunnels formed before him, each one a little too small for him to squeeze through. Just then, the bottom one opened wider, sending Dien down through it. NOW! he thought, gripping Zen by the hilt and calling the one word that would prove fatal to the beast.

“REVOLVER!” he shouted, and the sword pushed its way out of the sheath, spinning rapidly and cutting through the flesh of the dog’s neck like a steak knife through warm butter. One round; two rounds; three. The skill completed an unheard of five rotations before calling it quits. Blood was everywhere, and as Dien fell from the open wound, he heard a whimper come from the dog. Looking up, he saw the body begin to collapse, and he scrambled, moving as quickly as he could out of the way of the now beheaded gargantuan.

He was breathing heavily as he dug a health drink out of his supply, chugging it in hopes of getting his lost limb back. No such luck, he thought as the body began to dissolve into bits of data. A massive chest replaced it, and the blademaster smirked, hobbling over to it to try and receive his reward for the work he’d put into killing that mangy mutt. Inside was the finest cinnamon he’d ever seen; it was very near the point of being a liquid; which was when it was at its best—pure cinnamon dust. With a smile he closed the chest up and tapped it, plopping it into his inventory for use shortly to create fine applesauce.

I’m sure you’d all love to hear the boring details of how Dien logged out and back in to re-obtain his limb, how he was scolded for his lateness at the kitchen, how he and his friends made the applesauce, how he didn’t follow the woman’s advice and add a health drink for that extra punch, and how he turned the stuff in with a nametag and title just before the contest closed, but I don’t really want to write it. This post was some 29 pages long, and it’s currently 1:17 AM. I’m done; I’ll leave the other details up to your imaginations.

THE END.

(OOC: Teya and Shell will appear in other Special Events, while Appleseed will go back to his fruitless orchard. Oh, and watch for that bird in future quests)

Without any warning of thinking, Hacorie implanted his gigantic sword in the ground. After another second, a different titanic blade appeared in his hands. The fiery glow of this blade would light up the darkest of place. Its unusual aura made a red and orange trail behind it as it traveled in the air. Holding the hilt of the sword tight in his hands, Hacorie ran at his implanted sword. When he was right up next to it, the Heavy Blade bent his knees a slight bit and then propelled himself in the air at the blade. While he was in the air for a brief two seconds, Hacorie called out a spell to help himself.

“Ap Vakz!”

The tremendous fire glyph started to circle around his body until a glowing red aura enveloped him and made him glow faintly. This skill helped improve his fire skills damage, but Hac had to hurry before more vines came at him. Since the hilt of the blade has little out stretches on them, they made perfect foot grips. Since the blade was pretty far dug in the ground, once Hac’s feet touched it at the speed his body was traveling, the sword should act like a stopper. Hacorie was right. It did. As his feet his the sword, Hacorie let his knees bend as far as they could. Then, he outstretched them pressing against gravity until he started to shoot forward. Hac tilted his head up while soaring through the air and gently declining each passing second. He was right next to the large group of five trees.

Once again the blade in his hand disappeared and another red, more slender one took its place. This sword was called the Byakuen. Its immense fire power was even greater than that of the last sword, the Magnifier. Smiling once the sword appeared, Hacorie tucked in his legs and grabbed them with his hands while tilting his head against his knees. A second later, Hacorie hit the ground and rolled forward once. As his feet ended the roll, the Heavy Blade stood up and jumped forward while shouting a skill to hopefully put the trees in a frenzy or kill them.

“Karin!”

Fire quickly erupted from the blade as the heat of a thousand and one flames shot up. The fire was increased in size and elemental power right after due to the power of Ap Vakz. As the roaring inferno erupted from the blade, Hac felt his feet touch the ground. As both hit the solid ground, He slammed his first foot in the ground to stop him from moving forward. Centrifugal force immediately took in and swung him around using the first slash of the skill. Facing the last of the trees on the left side, Hacorie swung his thin katana the other way striking every tree once again. After the flaming slash hit every Apple Treeclaw, Hacorie did not stop, he kept on turning in a complete circle. As the strike came back to its first victim, the Heavy Blade leapt in the air and started to flip while bringing his katana over his head and striking the monster.

The roaring of trees echoed across the field as those five died. Turning around Hac smiled at the one remaining level nine monster. “So can I go now, or are you going to stay in my way?” In a miraculous turn of events, the tree started to emit a voice. Hacorie was almost stunned that the one that was left had a human operator behind it. “Please, please you have killed enough trees. Now, go away. You are free to leave now. Just do not kill me, I want to have fun with some lower level who will not kill me as easily.” Wit that said the Apple Treeclaw turned around and walked off. A box popped up soon after in front of the Heavy Blade confirming the item he got. As he read the message, Hac sheathed his sword and then drew his remaining Steeler out of the ground and sheathed it as well.

You have obtained Super Sweet Fiery Apple!

The Heavy blade almost danced around the field after this, but instead he decided to keep his cool for the time being and log back to the Delta Server Root Town. The now cliche’ three golden rings enveloped his body and whisked him away to the Aqua Capital, Mac Anu. As he entered the server, the town still seemed to be a ghost town with few characters every now and then appearing in the city and then disappearing without warning. They all seemed to be in a rush to finish the event. This meant that it was almost getting time to end the accursed event. I must hurry....

Wondering what to do next, Hacorie looked up to see a court jester type person bobbing around in front of him. Please...no... “Hello, kind lord Heavy Blade. It seems you have completed the task number one. Great, GREAT! Good for you. But now you must travel once again to Theta Server and begin. This is what you need to do before you stop and cock-a-doodle-doo. Theta, Blessed Cow Train is where you must gate to, but do not beware no monster roams this place. You might want to take any weapons and items you happen to have just in case. There are different shops that are in this place, but you will find all out once you log in the field. Thanks for your time, thanks for your patience no go, Go, GO, go, go SPEEDRACER!.....I...uh...mean Mr. Heavy Blade.” Almost laughing at the little thing, Hac watched as it jumped in the air and vanished with a small flash of white light. The Heavy Blade almost started to clap, but because of the jesters poor skills in jesting, he did not.

Hacorie was now off to Theta Server where the next peril began. Just thinking of the server made him warp there through the Chaos Gate. The town was barren, no people in site. Everyone who was once here was now in Delta Server beating up trees, or they were here at Theta: Blessed Cow Train doing whatever. Not taking anytime to take in the scenery, Hacorie quickly whisked off to the field.

Blessed Cow Train!

With only those words bouncing inside his mind, the golden rings transported Hacorie to the field. Right as the Jester had said, Hacorie got a Flashmail a moment later. Instead of gazing at the mail right away, the Heavy Blade quickly took in his surroundings. The field was baron and dead. It seemed that no plant or animal life was living anywhere around. The most likely cause of this heart breaking scenery was atop a small hill. It was a factory. This one factory was bellowing smoke into the air creating the gloomy look the field gave away. Do I have to go there? With a small sigh, Hacorie started walking that way while opening his Flashmail to take in what he had to do.

Flashmail:
To: Newly Entered Player in the Field
From: The Administrator

Welcome to Theta: Blessed Cow Train. Thank you for joining us in this event and good job making it thus far. For this part of the event, you must collect a few different items to help you make your apple sauce. You need Ball Jar-x12, Pots-x2, Jar Grabber-x1, Lid Lifter-x1, Large Spoon-x1, Jar Funnel-x1. That is all you will be able to get from this field so good luck in finding the necessary items. I hope you brought Items along for the NPC’s here like to trade, but if you did not GP works just fine.

I already hate applesauce, but after this event I am going to want to massacre it.

After finally making it to the factory, Hacorie quickly looked around and noticed all of his surroundings. Everything in the ‘factory’ was like a shop. To be exact, many shops were there. There were merchants everywhere. Most likely NPC’s who were here for the event. Taking notice of all the players here running from shop to shop in order to get everything done for the event, Hacorie decided he needed to go to the shops to get what he needed, as if it were not already obvious enough. Picking the nearest shop, Hac opened the door and entered it.

As soon as he looked at the shop keep, he wanted to walk out and hide for all eternity in a corner of hidingness. “Well, well if it is not Mr. Heavy Blade! Did you finally arrive here to get what you need for the event? This is my shop, I sell jars, or more like give them away for one GP. So just fork over one GP and these beautiful Ball Jars are yours to use for making the applesauce with that nice juicy looking apple you have there.” The jester said as he bounced around the back of the desk and magically made twelve jars appear on the table. “Okay then here is one GP...” Hacorie said as he reached in his pouch of money and pulled out one gold coin and laid it on the table.

Right as he was reaching to take the jars, the court jester’s arm came hurdling down from above. Seeing it in time, Hacorie jumped back to avoid the arm that crashed through the table splitting it in half and breaking half the jars on it. “What the fuck are you doing?!” Hac called to the Jester as he looked up at the Heavy Blade with a creepy smile on his face. “Did you really think it would be that easy to get these jars? I do not think so, you must complete a task to get them. If you are.....” The jester was then cut off by Hac. “...Oh so it is a fight you want, eh? Well then let us get it over with!” Hacorie yelled as he tried taking out his sword.

“Put away that sword! I do not wish to fight. Instead, it’s the exact opposite. You need to tell me a riddle. If I cannot solve it, then you will get these jars. That is the only catch. So whenever you are ready, begin. I warn you though, I am great at solving riddles.” The Jester said as he pointed angrily at Hac first, but then put a weird and scary smile back on his face. “Okay, I will dwell on a nice riddle then. Since I have already payed my dues though, you are not getting another GP out of me. Oh, and you might want to either fix that desk to let customers know this is a shop and not a wreckage, or you could leave it broke and let everyone who has made it this far just be the ones to complete it, haha. That was a joke...” Hac said as he began thinking of a good riddle.

“I will start with an easy one....What does man love more than life, fear more than death or mortal strife, what the poor have, the rich require, and what contented men desire, what the miser spends and the spendthrift saves and all men carry to their graves?” Hac asked as he smiled knowing this one was quite an easy for anyone. “The answer is nothing. You really did pick a simple one. I want one harder than that!” The Jester yelled as he danced and jumped around the shop happily.

“Fine, fine. Which room has no door, no windows, no floor and no roof?” Hac asked hoping the Jester would not get this one. “Easy....a Mushroom.” he said. Hacorie almost shrunk his head in discouragement, but he had one more riddle up his sleeve.

“It is not time for me to unveil my secret weapon. The infamous -gry riddle. Think of words ending in -GRY. Angry and hungry are two of them. There are only three words in the English language. What is the third word? The word is something that everyone uses every day. If you have listened carefully, I have already told you what it is.” Hac said smiling now. After thinking for a time, the Jester smiled a different smile. “I give up. Your twelve Ball Jars are now in your inventory. Before you leave, can you tell me the answer to the riddle?” The Jester called to Hac as he was about to exit the store.

“Language...” Hacorie said as he exited the store.

Exiting the store, a bright florescent light caught the Heavy Blade’s attention. It was a sign to the store directly in front of the riddle shop, the Pot Shop. The name in itself was enough to laugh about, but Hacorie did not say anything since the joke was too obvious to make. He did chuckle as he entered the shop though. “I need two pots, please.” Hacorie said to the woman shopkeeper who was at the desk. “That will be 200GP with no strings attached.” She said as she held out her hand waiting for the money. Slowly and carefully, Hacorie took the GP out of his satchel and placed it upon the table. “Okay, the jars are in your inventory. Now get out of my shop so I can help the next customers.” The lady almost yelled as her eyes started to look grim. Not wanting to cause any commotion, Hacorie listened to the words and exited the shop.

The next store he entered had many a weapon in it. All looked like rares. “Are you selling weapons here?” The Heavy Blade asked hoping he could get one of the magnificent weapons on display. “No son, we are not. Those are just for show. Since you are here, you must be in the special event then. Well do I have a surprise for you. You can get a Jar Grabber here. All you need to do is show me a Heavy Blade or Blademaster sword above the level of two or two exactly.” The old man said as he stroked his beard waiting for Hacorie to withdraw one of his magnificent swords.

“Level two or higher....Here, I will show you my highest level sword then. It is called Karin.” The eyes of the shopkeeper widened as Hacorie drew the blade form its sheathe. The green blade was crafted with talent and the man seemed to fall into some sort of heavenly state. “Wow, this blade is divine. You must be strong to wield such a sword. Now just fork over two GP and this Jar Grabber will be yours.” Taking even more money out of his pouch then a normal day, Hacorie handed the keeper of the shop two gold coins. The Jar Grabber was automatically placed in his inventory.

“Welcome to the Hojik shop!” A man called as Hacorie entered another store. For only 500 GP this great Lid Lifter can be yours. That is right for a measly 500 GP! Now give me the cash and it will be yours!” The man said as he came rushing at Hac with money hungry eyes. “Now brother, if he is a Heavy Axe he can get one for free by opening a jar of pickles for us.” Another man said as he exited the back room trying to see if the customer was a Heavy Axe. “Aww darn, he is just a Heavy Blade. Oh well charge him 500 GP then.” The man finished as he started to come toward Hac. “He also has one more option brothers, do not forget it. Sir Heavy Blade, you can perform a dance for us and get the Lid Lifter for 30G.” The third said as he waited to see if Hac would dance or not.

“I do not dance, and I am not a Heavy Blade. Thus I will pay the full price.” Handing over 500 GP, Hacorie put a Lid Lifter in his pouch and exited the shop hoping to never meet triplets in the game again. “So where do I go next? Ahh the funnel cake shop.” Hacorie said as he noticed a large funnel cake sign.

Entering the shop, three woman dressed in aprons approached Hac. They quickly encircled him and discussed him as if he was not there. “So sisters...will he do?(1) I do not know, he looks stupid since he is a Heavy Blade and all.(2) Maybe we should wait for a Wavemaster to get here.(1) They are usually much smarter.(1) Yes, I concur.(3) A Wavemaster would be better, but he is the only one here right now.(3) Should we get him to help us anyway just to see if he can?(1&2) It does sound okay sisters.(3) We should do that.(All 3)” They all said conversing to one another.

“Hey! Who is the idiot here?!” Hac said almost yelling fiercely at them. “Oh, we are sorry. We did not mean to speak about you like that out loud. We just speak whatever is on our mind to one another all the time so we barely know we offend people some time. We do apologize.” Said the third one as she bowed her head. The other two did the same.

“So, what is this task you need me to do?” Hacorie asked wanting to get straight to the point. “OH! Yes, we need you to light a fire for us. We have many flammable things around here, but no flame. We need the fire to cook our food. So can you please help us?” They all three said at the same time. “Sure, why not, but what does it get me?” Hac asked wanting to know what item he gets for this mindless act. “You get a Jar Funnel!” One screamed out loud.

Hac was quickly led to their giant stove with black ashes all in it. “Okay, I need you all to give me your aprons and chef hats.” Hacorie said to them in a tone that was not a question. The three hesitantly took off their frilly pink aprons and white chef hats and gave them to Hacorie. “Okay, now stand back!” Hacorie called as he wadded the aprons up and threw them in the fire place along with the hats. “ I will use a fire skill to light this fire and get it going for you all.”

“KARIN!”

As his sword started to light up, Hacorie threw his sword in the fire leaving the hilt of the blade still out. The katana was quickly set on fire and so were the clothes. The fire was started and Hac felt his satchel get heavier as the item was put in his inventory.

“Thank you!” The three women called as he left.

The last shop was the Magic Shop. One Hac had entered it, he walked to the desk and rang the bell since no one was around. As soon as the ding sound was finished, a man popped up from behind the desk like he was on an elevator, with music and all. “Hello, yes, yes, let us get this over with. Trade me a level 1 scroll and you can have a large spoon and then go away. “O....okay.” Hac said almost scared like. He quickly pulled out an Ice Floe and handed it over to the shopkeeper. “There you go!” Hac said enthusiastically as a Large Spoon was placed on the counter and the man disappeared again. Hac took the spoon and left the shop quickly.

“Now I have everything, it is time to get out of here then...” With that said, Hacorie swiped the palms of his hand together and was transported back to Dun Loireag. Once back in the wind city, he received his next instructions by Flashmail.

Flashmail
To: Hacorie
From: Admin.

Go to Sigma, Baking Desperate Frying Pot. Every fire monster in the game is at this field. Any monster that is killed there will leave behind a treasure chest. You will find Cinnamon inside of the box. The quality of the Cinnamon depends on the relationship between your level and that of the monster that was slain. The more suicidal the ratio for you, the better the product.

End Flashmail

Perfect...

Viscera could feel the fiery breath of the Hell Doberman slithering down his armor. The creature was twice his size, maybe bigger. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. It didn't take long for the enemy to go on the offensive, snapping at his head. Dodging out of the way in the nick of time, Viscera wasw instantly on the defensive. Let it wear itself out. Then I'll kill it. Baking away, Viscera taunted the fiend. Anger clearly showing on its face, Hell Doberman snarled some kind of phrase. Realizing a little too late what was happening, Viscera tried to dive out of the way of three masses of flame. Getting caught in the attack, the flesh was being seared of his skin. The armor began conducting the heat, but it was worst on his face. Tearing off his helmet, Viscera's long white hair fell down his shoulders. Looks like my helmet is gone. Holding his melted armor in his hands, rage began to fill in Viscera's heart. Glaring down at the beast, he slammed the helm into the monsters face. It gave out a tiny yelp as the spike caught its eye, but it seemed unhurt other than that.

Deciding now was the time, Viscera went on the attack. Raising his blade, he went on a rampage. Hacking and slashing, every blow landed on the beast. Worn out, he backed up to see the damage. Hell Doberman laid on the ground, licking its wounds. It was soon back on its feet and ready for more. Dashing at Viscera, it opened its jowels for a massive bite. Now is my chance! Swinging his axe, he caught it right in the middle of the mouth, splitting its jaw wide open. Howling in agony, the creature backed off and attempted to run. Not a chance. As the monster ried to retreat, Viscera cast a spell to end its life. "Gan Zot!" A group of razor sharp boulders erupted from the ground, piercing the belly of the beast. Blood gushed from the gash, and the Hell Doberman fell lifelessly into a heap on the ground.

Heading over to a nearby puddle, Viscera checked the damage done to him from the flaming helmet. His face was singed, and his ears were deformed. Staring at his eyes, he noticed that most color faded from them. Don't want anyone to see me like this. Tearing a strip from his undershirt, he fashioned it into a mask that covered the scalded part of his face. Headinbg back to his helmet, he broke pieces off the soft metal. Fahioning them into ear armor, he placed them over his malformed skin. This will have to do until I get another helmet. He headed back to where he killed the beast, and found a treasure chest. Opening the chest, he found mounds of scrumpuos cinnamon. He loaded as much as he could in his sack, and poured the rest out onto the ground. Gating out to town, Viscera headed for the Pawn Shop to make his award winning applesauce.

Being lead tyo the back by the kind owner, Viscera found anything he would ever need. Spoons, whisks, an oven, and more. Tossing all the key ingredients into a pot, he mixed it until it was a paste. Popping it into the stove, he let it cook until it was soft and brown. Pulling out his concoction, he chopped up the apples into pieces the size of his fingernails. Stirring in the fruit, he measured out the cinnamon. Tossing in two cups, he continued stirring at an increased speed. Addinbg a little sugar for sweetness, he tossed it back in the oven. Waiting five minutes, Viscera again pulled out the pot. Using a ladle, Viscera spooned out some applesauce and set it on a plate. Sticking a piece of tape on the plate with his name on it, he set it out to be judged.

THE END

The list wriggled in her hands. It curled and it writhed and it did its damned best to give her the nastiest paper cuts ever come into existence if it couldn’t at least have her let go.
Jenovra just gave it her prim, mirthless smile, patting it on the head. “Internet,” she explained simply.
It was odd, that; The List was acting completely different than it ever had before. No messages to her, no flaming print, no illustrious entrance, nothing. It was almost as if she’d been stuck with a different one. But… there was only one like this one, wasn’t it?
Well, she didn’t give enough of a damn to find out, but it was a curious thought. Slightly disturbing, too.

Two Lists out there….
But this one almost seemed to…whimper.

“Hold- STILL, will you?” she said, watching blood trickle down her pale fingers from the thin sheet’s convulsions. Thick pomegranate red liquid trickled onto the paper, threatening to soak into it- and it froze. She let go of the sheet, and it rolled out midair, as if it had his the ground and lay flat. She blew a hair back into place with her forelocks. “It’s about time you behaved. It’s not like I brought Sephie along or that penguin, so I’d think you could relax some.” Long fingers drifted to her hair, refastening the bun with secure, though temporary, twine. She’d also been able to fix up her outfit to make it more presentable for respectable public- that is, if she knew anyone respectable on this game. Peh. Regardless, she’d been able to re-stitch up her tapestryesque reams of skirt and shed a top layer. Though she felt like her outfit was unintentionally similar to Senna’s now (though Jenovra’s armsleeves had long been discarded in tatters to her grunty for safe-keeping-slash-snuggling), a lace-up manila top with seafoam and cream patchwork skirt and boots would have to damn do (plus the leather shorts beneath- just in case, you know. The skirt’s still in four pieces!). Maybe she could pawn off those ridiculously thick gold ringlets with the runes on them sometime…
Now, on to the point of the matter; the new event. Curse her and her culinary genius from too many hours home alone. Sometimes she sorely missed being states away from her family…
“So. We’re making apple sauce today?” She scratched her jaw line with a long nail, the peculiarly thin, periwinkle parchment shivering visibly in front of her. She opted to ignore that. “Hm. Too bad I’ve never made any in reality- though then again, with this absurd game nothing here is like reality.” She shared a chuckle with herself over this, though the parchment just hung there like a sheet of… gravity-defying… ice. She almost felt disappointed.

Apple-x1
Ball Jar-x12
Pots-x2
Jar Grabber-x1
Lid Lifter-x1
Large Spoon-x1
Jar Funnel-x1
Cinnamon-x1 chest’s worth

She straightened up. “Well, another scavenger hunt before any actual cooking, I see.” Bother bother bother…
Gently, since the Wavemistress didn’t want to scare off her only set of directions in this madly stupid World, she caressed the list with her index. It shuddered and rolled into a ball, shivering in panic. Jenovra plucked it off the floor and stowed it away before it could fly off again, shaking her head as she went.

“First, acquire an apple.”
She looked up. On the next pretty green hill over began an orchard of looming apple trees in a large clump. There was a reassuring peal of screams coming from the vicinity every so often, which was of course quite befitting for such picturesque scenery. The noise of yowls of agony, quickly muffled, and the battlecries of a thousand preteens in digital headgear. A tree also occasionally burst into flame, as well.
”This looks to be easy enough.”

Jenovra sauntered down the hill, walking calmly through a tiny pumpkin patch on the way to the apple orchard. She ignored how the vines grabbed at her ankles. It was to be expected by now, what with all the events she’d burned through over the years. Well, OOC years. That screwy IC time, never gives the RPer’s a break. Heh.

Which is not to say she hasn’t wised up to the events so far. After reading the initial billboard, rules, and hints along the way (as well as acquired her personal List- though she was still a bit ambivalent about the change in persona to a point), she already had a heavy helmet and blade in tow. Ah, ‘tis good to know people.
She regretted that thought the moment it entered her head.
No, in the end, for most it just doesn’t pay off to put up with all of what she’s had to over the expanse of hours she’d spent pent up in this digital world. Sigh.
Nevertheless, she now had one borrowed Earth Sword from Yoshiko within her inventory. It was damn heavy, compared to anything else she’d ever carried in the game (sure, that big ol’ book from that monkey King wasn’t any walk in the park, but at least you didn’t have to worry about STABBING yourself with it! How uncouth those blade-weilding maniacs must be…)
She had also acquired, through ways she is currently indisposed to comment on at the moment, a heavy ol’ Head Gear from a certain Kiwi bird. Ah, the lovely memories they shared together: skewering monsters, tin-can cats, crossword fights (“I tell you, ‘blastwave’ is NOT applicable. It’s definitely ‘lightning’, but since when have people listened to the voice of reason?”)- all rather pleasant, wouldn’t you agree? And she had a new acquaintance to boot. Not that she was particularly sure she wanted to meet her, but…eh.
The Earth Sword was easier to acquire; having just lately been on a quest with the Heavyblade, borrowing it was an easy enough task. Sometimes it’s also nice to have a level gap between you and your party members. Very nice indeed.
However, there has been loads enough backstory and will probably be more of such asides later, so let’s just move on with the damn story before it’s thirty posts long, shall we?

Right. Jenovra. Orchard.
…
Over the hill and through the squash, to orchard da Gran’ma goes~!*
The bat knows the way, to what she must slay, and the Apple TreeClaws all goooo--

Down to the outskirts of the orchard, then walked around it, several feet away yet. She couldn’t help but notice that a few of the players running past had ‘poison’ icons over her head. The sound of whips against skin were also duly noted. Besides, a nice walk couldn’t hurt.
She heard a hissing noise in the dirt below, and saw the flicker of something in the foliage. The acrid smell of fertilizing manure wafted gently through the air, mingling with the scent of tantalizingly forbidden fruit.

She dropped to the ground. A vine whizzed over her head, a second lurching out to slash and wrap about her wrists. Jenovra rolled away from the tree, to her dismay finding that ‘away’ meant ‘uphill’. A long gash was freshly ripped through doeskin boots and into her thigh via barbed thorns. Jenovra blocked the next vine with her Wand of Storms, though found it appallingly insufficient to parry it well enough to get away. She yanked heavily to get it back from the coiling imitation limb, eventually just digging her nails into the outside of the herbaceous plantae. It writhed in pain and retreated sharply. The Wavemistress ran up the hill just in time, a cloud of poisonous fumes on her heels.

Jenovra fell back on the small hill, breathing deeply. A quick Repth would cure the cut, of course, but she wasn’t about to remove her attention from her target yet. She bit her thumbail, spitting out a piece of the oversized topiary still stuck beneath it.
”So, you want to play?” she mused aloud, more because it was something cliché the moment warranted rather than she actually expected a response from anything. That seemed to be a habit of people in The World- as well as people in general: they always randomly say something cocky as if it makes themselves look better or adds Drama or someodd. She just said something because it had nothing better to do than listen to her in its last moments of life anyways. It wasn’t exactly an introduction or anything, but then again the tree didn’t make a very good first impression. If there really was a PC running it then it was a rather rude one at that.
With a yawn, she skimmed her spell list as the TreeClaws it applied ministrations to its poor offshoots, writhing about just a few yards away. Her eyebrows raised as she spotted a pair of spells. “Ah, that will do nicely.”
She remembered again that one out of every ten of these supposedly had an ALTIMIT employee behind them.
Jenovra suddenly relished the idea of frying one of these trees immensely.
“Pardon,” she called, though not very convinced of the idea she’d get much intelligible response either outcome, “but you wouldn’t want to just… give me one of your better apples, would you?” The tree screamed shrilly at her in response, shaking its branched furiously.
She took that as a definite ‘no’.
Oh well.

The ground rippled about the tree, a ring of earth moving and flickering like liquid about it. A second later walls of stone erupted from the ground. Inch-thick walls thrust themselves about the monster, encasing it in a dome but for one hole a foot in radius at the top. The walls jolted again, a second wave spiking along the spherical walls in added strength. Vines began to shoot out the top--- and then came the lightning.

The cloud flashed dark for a moment, the entire sky dark with clouds for brief milliseconds. Greased lightning spidered alive from nowhere, long fingers of pure heat and light branching out from every direction briefly as it streamed into the single hole. A torrential wind whipped up from nowhere, twisting itself around the crackling beam and into the hellhole dome. All within the time space of two blinks this happened, the theatrics finished as the hole closed shut.

Long splinters of wood jutted out like imperceptible needles from a good three inches of solid earth and rock.

After a beat, the dome slowly crumbled into sand and soil again, melding with the scenery again as if it had never come.
Jenovra strode down the hill towards what little wreckage was left, finding a single, silvery-red apple rolled off to the side of the ash of the stump. It was lightly smoking when she picked it up.
The woman smiled thinly to herself. Oh, the things you can do with a pair of Earth raises and GiRai Rom. Not that it was a very strong monster to begin with. She waved her wand casually over her wound, the cut disappearing promptly without a trace. She hoped that the extra cooking for this… ‘Sweet Rome’ (you can insert a bad ‘Rome wasn`t built in a day’ just here, if it makes you feel any better) apple. Tucking it away neatly, she brought out the list again. She pleasantly noted that it suddenly became very stiff and cooperative. With a vague grin, she raised a hand and left the aptly-named field. Onto the materials. Er, utensils. Er, paraphernalia. You have NO idea how much grief this one word is giving me, so just keep it to ‘stuff other than ingredients’.
Now that I’ve ruined the mood of the post completely, let’s move on to the factory shops! Blessed Cow Train, indeed…grumble…


---

*Note: She’s just an aunt, not a grandmother. Tch, how old do you think she is?

EDIT: The size fucked up somehow. G'men.

"Time to go! Chaos Gate, transfer me to the Theta Server!"

With his command, the gateway to infinite places, the Chaos Gate, sprung to life and swirl, delighted to be in use again. Though his level would not allow it usually, once again the rules of the special event cam into play to his advantage. Slowly, he dematerialized, bit by bit, only to be reconstructed at the landing platform of the next server.

The Root Town's appearance lived up to the name that had been bestowed upon it, Highland City Dun Loireag. The entire settlement was carved out of the giant stone from which it was located on, the air crisp and fresh to breath. The players here moved slowly, the beauty of this mountain community effecting their minds and diverting their attention.

'It is gonna be worth the wait before I can reach this place normally...But no time now!'

Before a feeling of the utmost serene calm could steal his attention, Ashura turned on his heels and looked upon the Chaos Gate, his next destination in mind. The event was scheduled to end within a few hours, give or take some minutes, and he was only a third done.

"Blessed Cow Train!"

For the second time within minutes, Ashura was whisked away by the portal, landing in a barren wasteland, the earth a sickly color. The smell of a smoke was heavy in the air, and with little searching, Ashura located the source: A massive struture, the tall stacks looming over a deep valley, creating the illusion of guards on watch duty.

"No time to waste!" he breathed as he began to run at full tilt, his sheath striking his back with every bounding step he took, resulting in a very sore swatch of flesh. As he neared his destination, the musical chime of a Flashmail alerted him of a new bit of information.

Flashmail

With his mind set on the desired objects, Ashura burst into the first store, only to run into the NPC Shop Keeper.

"Welcome to the Riddle Shop! If you can tell me a riddle that I cannot answer, then you you be able to purchase 12 Ball Jars for only 1 GP. Now...what is your riddle?"

'A riddle? I got it...'

Panting like a dog from his mad dash in, it took Ashura a few seconds to regain his breath before he began reciting his challenge.

No matter what happens in Life
I come for you
Silently, I creep into your life
And clutch you in my grasp
Nothing you do will stop me,
For it happens with everyone.
What am I?

With his riddle to be answered, the movement of the Shop Keeper froze as the player running the persona activated a unfathomable database, looking for the answer to the question. Seconds ticked by as Ashura waited, his breath caught in his throat. He needed to hurry, for time did not wait for nobody...

"I got it! The answer is painfully obvious, thanks to my archive. The answer is 'Death'!"

Ashura stiffened and let his head fall forward. The owner reached forward before the sound of laughter hindered him.

"Wrong! Here is my 1 GP and I will be taking my Ball Jars..."

Confused, the shop keeper took the pitiful currency and handed him the small bundle of objects. "Wait, then what is the answer?"

Walking through the door, Ashura called back, a smirk evident in his voice. "It is Hope..."

With one of the items he needed, Ashura was one step closer. The next shop was the a Pot Shop, the name invoking a small smile. Once inside, Ashura was confronted with an identical person, the appearance for shop keepers apparantely very limited for CC. Corp.

"Welcome to the Pot Shop. Here, you can trade in a piece of Heavy Head Armor for two pots, or purchase them for 200 GP!"

Knowing that nothing in his inventory was of that class, Ashura quitely handed him a 200 GP and took the items.

The next place had a huge sign, alerting people that it was 'The Sword Shop'. Inside, Ashura nearly wet himself with glee as the walls were covered with numerous rare weapons, many of them Blademaster and Heavy Blade weapons.

"Hey. Welcome to The Sword Shop. With this event, you can get a Jar Grabber for 2 GP if you show be a Blademaster or Heavy Blade wea..."

He trailed off as Ashura pulled out his Grunty Sword, Rondo, and Oval Sword along with the amount needed, the three blades glinting in the light.

Seconds later, Ashura walked into the next shop, his pack more than slightly heavy with all of the items he was now carrying.

"This is the Hojik Shop. Since you are not a Heavy Axeman, dance and I'll sell you a Lid Lifter for 30 GP."

Time was of the essence, so placing his sword on the ground to prevent movement, Ashura began to do a dance that was popular at weddings and movies: The Electric Slid.

'I hope CC. Corp. doesn't record this...'

Once finished, Ashura dashed out, his pocket 30 GP lighter. The next shop robbed him of all money all together, the shop keeper demanding 1500 GP if he couldn't light his stove.

Weeping heavily, Ashura entered the last store and left, the owner asking for a level one scroll of any element.

'I knew it was a good choice to keep those Dark-type Scrolls...'

All of the items he needed was in his pack, and now, with this place emptied out, it was time to go. Gating out, Ashura returned to the Root Town and prepared to jump server once again. To him, this day was getting better and better...

"Chaos Gate, transfer me to the Sigma Server!"

Theta, Blessed Cow Train


“Mmm, nicely weathered sword y’got ‘ere.” A ponytailed lass nodded to the Earth Sword within her hands. “Anywho. I just had ter make sure you’d appreciate ther items befo’ givin’ ‘em away. Always friendly to a friend of a ‘eavyblade!” She chuckled tomboyishly. “S’better’n bein’ on the otha’ end o’ the sword, ya?” Jenovra smiled primly, not offering a response as she flicked two GP into the air. The Merchant NPC caught them with a deft swipe of her hand, tossing the sword back in her other. She wrestled behind the counter for a minute, then plopped a large device onto the counter, beaming at the customer genuinely. “’Iggo, mam, uno jar grabber per two-oh gp. Er, two. Not twenty.”
“Thank you,” Jenovra returned, awkwardly snatching the borrowed weapon by the handle. Sure, ‘friends’. Whatever works. She tucked it back into her inventory via hammerspace, and left the almost creepily cheery Sword Shoppe. Next up in the large factory was the… Funnel Cake and… Hojik shops?
Now this should be interesting.

The two shops after that were quite odd indeed, not fitting into the factory picture well…to say the least. It looked almost like they had pasted in coding from a past event and just slopped them together. This was never a good sign, but regardless, Jenovra plowed on.
The next shop contained a rather seedy individual, within a thatched, wood hut with just a large square hole as the entrance- and by large it is meant, oh, about three yards high and several across. Most of the inside of the ‘shop’ was a square sand floor and a counter opposite the entrance. The filthy old man attempted a toothy grin (which was a good try on his part, since he only had about half the teeth of the average hobo and long, rotten ones at that) as the lady entered, and it was hard on her part not to curl her lip in distaste. However, the wise old bargain shopper in her knew better and, in proper ladylike fashion, kept a straight, self-important air. Not that she was full of herself, but dirty old men like this scraggly thing usually took it as a sign you’d some money to throw about instead of throwing curses and/or leers at you. This however meant they’d try harder to steal your money, but everything has its price. If it’ll save her some dignity, at least, she’ll find some way out of it later…
The NPC was still grinning madly, long, bony legs crossed in front of him with his big, fleshy, and visibly rank feet bouncing about to an unimaginative beat. Or convulsions, take your pick. His bald skull shone in the light, only grey scraggles left in a ring around his head as his voice rattled through his throat in a low, scratchy hiss. “Ah, miss. Oi’ve got what ye need, whotever ‘tis you want.” He cackled to himself as if this made sense.
Oh, great. So he’s a seedy, dirty, BRITISH hick.
At least that explains the teeth.
Jenovra’s eyes were blank. She stared down at the man in her shadow with little empathy for the creetur. “Let me guess. I have to ask about your wares, you show me the different types you have handy that I conveniently need to finish this event and give me some outrageously pathetic price for it.”
The NPC gagged on his own hair, wheezing and hacking but still grinning all the way.”Ahh, we have a smart miss here, yes we do. Oi suppose yew’ve been abowt the block a few tymes, eh milady?” Jenovra didn’t bother with a reply.
The ‘merchant’ yanked back some spittle-encrusted hairs with a scraggly hand, rocking slightly. “Quoite correct, miss, quoite correct. Naow yew know vahry well what oi sell now, jest to mayk things easiah fo’ the both of us, miss.” He pointed a long, chipped nail of a peculiar shade of blue above his head. With a pop the word ‘Hojik’ appeared before ‘Merchant’. “Bot yew kin just call me Higgins, mi’laidy.”
“Higgins.”
”Yesss, Higgins, mi’laidy. ‘Tis me own, personal nayme.” He leaned forwards. “People do have ‘em, yewno.” He leaned back again, hunched over and feet bouncing. “Jest thought I’d let you know, since oi feels loike we’s going ter get ter know eachovver realll well-loike in the next few minnits.”
Jenovra was as stoic as ever. “No offense meant, but I personally do not plan to stay around long enough to become intimately acquainted.”
Higgins chuckled sickly. “Well, nonetheless, miss. ‘Ea, you’ll be wanting to know ‘ow much ‘iss costs naow, roight?” A filthy hand brought forwards the lid lifter from behind the counter.
She mentally braced herself for what she knew was coming, though her face remained unchanging. “How much?”
He scraped his nails across the surface of the lid lifter in rapid succession. “Five ‘undred. Or a dahnce.”
“No.”
The sudden stony ferocity and sheer speed of the response belied her apathetic, calculating visage. Jenovra’s mind was hard at work thinking a way out of this. Damn damn DAMN, she knew such utter detail and intricacy in a paltry one-time event NPC was too ominous to be taken lightly but something THIS pathetic? God, something was deeply disturbed inside of the brains of the game’s sexually deprived inventors.
Higgins, however, was still trying to comprehend the monosyllabic statement.
He broke out in a vaguely uneasy, yet still fairly confident grin. “No. No? Oi’m sorry, miss, but there’s jesst in’t no ‘no’.”
”Oh, surely I can find a better way to go about it without paying that much for a one-time use of a lid lifter?” A sudden, almost desperate plan began to click in place inside of her head, but she didn’t rush herself.
“Nope. Dem’s de rules.”
”I highly doubt that’s all there is.”
Higgins’ head rolled back, crystal blue eyes wide. He croaked wetly, his Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down visible through the wrinkles and bones. “Moi soight iss goin’, oi’m such the ol’ codger, nowadays. Oi only wanted a bit o’ joi in me loife wif the few wretched days oi have left on ‘is earth, madam. It would be a pleasure- no, an honor, miss- if ye would jest oblige an ol’ sssoul sssuch as oi with a dance by as prettily developed a woman sech as… yeself.” His eyes rolled forwards, characteristic leer back on his cracked lips. “Unless, of cohs’, ye wont t’pay ther full fifty-oh fo’ me continued upkeep.” His breath and words were a sinuous hiss, cooing venomous words with no intent in them but for pain. “Afta’ all, noboddy stopss boi deze days, wot wif those conveeny-ent… route server shopss. ‘Twould be a /great/ help to have that bit o’ extra pocket money…”
The woman twitched. This man was… unnerving, to say the least. A more perverse AI she’d never known- nor hoped to.
“Now pay. Or dahnce n’ pay. An’ make it a spektakkular one, wif pretty yellow n’ pink ribbons n’ such, or ah won’t be happy. Mebbe der Electric Slide. Oi loikes dat’un.” Big surprise there.
She pondered quietly to herself for a moment, hooking her ickle wand onto her plaited belt as she did so. Her hands hovered over the desk for a moment, as if hesitant at the thought of even touching the splintering boards. Jenovra paused, stepping back once on the ‘dance floor’. After a moment, she looked back up- er, down- at the expectant Higgins.
“Well?”
“…So what you’re saying is… I have to either dance,” She flipped one of her hands over, adding “here, on the floor…” Higgins nodded. She flipped over her other hand. “Or pay you a total sum of Five hundred for a silly little lid lifter.” Higgins nodded again, sniffing up an escaping booger that looked a bit too alive for her tastes.
She crossed her arms slowly, one after the other. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think that will work for me.”
Higgins smacked the counter with his hands, exasperated. “Naow, naow, play fair. You gots dis fah, yew moight as well swallow yeh dignity a bit. S’not loike I have cameras ‘eah.”
Jenovra sighed to herself, her fingers drifting to her head to massage her scalp in more thought. Higgins continued on. “It wouldn’ be much, yew know, jes a lil’ Scottish jig orrah’ belly dahnce or woteva. S’not that bad, love.” Her hands dropped immediately, giving him a look that could freeze fire. She shifted her weight, hands on hips purposefully.
“I beg to differ.”
Her hips swiveled as she shifted her weight back, raising a foot purposefully as she stepped to the right, and she neatly flipped her body ninety degrees clockwise. In all seriousness it looked like she was about to walk right back out the door.
There was silence.
“Well, that’s all done then.” Jenovra clapped her hands together lightly, pivoting herself back around to face the NPC. Higgins was livid.
“Naow, that DOESN’T COUNT! No music, no nothin’! No singin’, barely any movement! S’not faih! Art least SING a few bars of ther song or summat!? You wretched bitch!”
”It seems we did get to know each other after all.” Jenovra smiled primly, plucking the lifter off of the counter of the shaking man and dropping 30 in gold in its place. She swept it into her inventory as she continued. “If your programming recognized even a few simple moves as that, then it counts. Good day.”
The foul-mouthed (oh, there are so many levels to that) NPC was still snarling dangerously to himself, rocking back and forth intermittently as he cursed Spanish pop music and hoped that the writers of the Macarena were burning painfully in Hell at that very moment- in more uncouth grammar, at least, that the authoress doesn’t feel like subjecting her poor audience to any more than needed, when Jenovra walked out the door. A purple, genetically mutated grasshopper sprung up beside the niggard ‘man’, chirping expectantly. He sneered, scratching the shell of the insect. “Yew know, thot wass ssso absurd it prolly woulder bin betta jes t’do a dahnce.” He fell into thought for a moment, before shrugging it off. There was a polite cough from the entrance, and he perked up immensely. “Yeh, ‘oo cares about that fer naow? Next ‘un, comin’ up!”

---

Next was a rather… odd shop. Sure, the counter was in front of the house, but behind it was a single wall from a double-doored, vintage brick house, with glowing oil lanterns visible within. She walked past the empty counter cautiously, taking care not to acquire any splinters from the distinctly birch (why birch, of all trees?) door. If nobody was outside… then, they must be in. Might as well have a look about then, yes?
What lay inside was quite a surprise. By the light of lanterns lining the ‘second floor’`s railing (in truth it was a single stretch of carpeted floor on the back wall, behind the grand staircase), almost all of the house seemed to be made of… wood. The inside resembled a wooden version of the entrance hall to an extravagant Vienna house. Mingling scents of pastries, kitchen oil and pine nut wafted through the air. Tile peeked out of a single yellow room to the left of the staircase behind an oak saloon door (which, truth be told, looked quite out-of-place but the house was eclectic enough as it was). Jenovra drummed her fingers on the tip of the Wand of Storms, rain and mist splashing at the warmth through the glass. She opened the door.

Two things were immediately noticeable about the room: first, that this was, inexorably, the kitchen of the ‘house’, and quite a large and rustic one as that; second, that everything, including the bricks, were all, horrifically, yellow. Piss yellows, to be frank. The lighting was probably to be blamed for most of this, but it seemed that the owner for some DAFT reason thought that it was a good choice of color scheme. She was not looking forwards to meeting the ‘man’ of the house… and as soon as the thought came, she noticed a short round bottom protruding from the oven right next to her. He popped back out with a smoking baked Funnel Cake.
Well, you don’t see THAT in a factory every day.
A portly man with curly black hair poking out from a chef hat bustled about in front of an old stone furnace, pumping a bellows like it were a broken accordion into the dying flames. He stood up straight, wiping ash and soot from his round, bothered face. Atleast he looked fairly hygienic, healthy, and at least partly sane. This was certainly a welcome change of pace for Jenovra.
“Oh!” The man bustled, wiping his hands on his white- er, once-white- shirt busily. “Oh my!” The flustered man gave her a tiny bow, then scuttled back to a boiling pot of grease and batter. He stirred it with a fresh leek (odd), dicing up some more in his free hand. “I’m sorry for not greeting you better, miss, but I’m busy preparing a very important dish at the moment. I can’t tell you of what, since that’s o-obvious, but not for whom or when-“ he waved a pudgy hand airily, then caught the leek as it spun about in the pot next it came round- “but it is very important that I do. However, I c-can’t seem to get the fire started!” He paused to look at her pathetically, almost whimpering in his unneeded stress. “I’ve such duress- is that the right word? Or have I mixed them up again?- a-anyways, I’ve been under such an amount of very important things needed to be completed in a short time that I’ve completely forgotten to heat up the oven a-at all. It you could set them afire and keep them going for a few moments while I finish the s-sau—ah, whatever I’m doing at the moment, I would be much obliged.” Arms akimbo, he sliced this, diced that, fricasseed those and this, mixed them all up as he juiced this that and the other thing into a third bowl and added a separated egg, took something out of the deep fryer—well, let’s just say the woman did the poor NPC a favor and lit up the oven with a well-placed fire spell from her Inferno Wand (always good to have those extra wands in your inventory when you’re magical- and elemental-dependant like WaveMasters).
Within a few minutes the NPC had thrust in a bowl of some type of batter, a pie, and a mutilated pumpkin inside of the over and shut it behind him with a flourish. The portly man slumped to the floor with a sigh, wiping his brow yet again. Jenovra wondered whether or not the man would be conscious for much longer and raised an eyebrow.
“Thank you,” the merchant said with a wheeze, removing his hat to better mop his head. She was surprised to find that inside the ring of black hair outside the hat lay none other than a shock of pale blonde underneath. On second glance, the olive skin seemed more like residue from smoke and olive oil, as his spotted face showed; the man was more Swede than Greek. Thank God he’d no accent either way.
“I-it’s such a horrible stove, you know,” he continued shakily, fumbling beneath the counter for some jars. “It’s just, I’m a reused PC, you know.”
Well, that was interesting. ”You don’t say.”
“Yes.” He mopped himself over again, just for good measure. She was starting to think it was a nervous twitch- or just a glitch. She doubted they’d bother to make anything /that/ humanized. “I was… originally for the pie event, but they decided to give the only NPC work to Monsieur and Grandpa, since they’re better known and I needed to be completed a little better anyhow. Had a bug in the list of items you needed, you see,” he explained, stirring what looked like a bowl of sizzling vanilla pudding. “I-I kept reporting you needed ninety-nine _______, not _______.”
”I see. So you’re that old?”
”Oh, no!” He looked surprised at such a comment. “ Nononono. I’ve been revamped multiple times for different roles.” He stirred vigorously. “For example, then I was also made partially to help be a station for the Trick-or-Treating event, a mask, you know, but they didn’t like the idea of skins on the shopkeepers /that/ different. So then, er, then, they combined both of the data so that they could reuse me for multiple events. For o-one ve-ve-version, an early one, of the p-p-pumpkin carving one I was also to hand out and gra-grade pumpkins on creativity. B-But I caught a bug from the field. T-too cold.” Jenovra vaguely wondered how that was possible, but quickly shoved the idea out of the head due to the silliness that would inevitably result from even bothering to ask. The chattering NPC continued on. “I was to be a judge in the Cooking Contest, but they said not enough people originally participated—they replaced me with something cuter to get attention.” He was shame-faced at this. “There was a rogue ____, she was missing a wand, you know, a-and she seemed dead-set on finding one of the contestants. Wrong server and everything for her, but they didn’t delete her until afterwards. She was an audience favorite and her and a penguin, well, replaced me. A-as I said.” He shook his head vigorously, removing the thought from his head. “I was also going to be one of the additional rare events for the Whale Event. They were going to make me steal one of them for some soup I was to make.” He shook his head faster. Jenovra took mental notes on this, feeling a bit unnerved overall. Today was turning out to be…interesting. “S-s-so you see, I was just a rejected NPC with a personality they didn’t feel like deleting totally. S-so I’m supposed to be out there and serve ingredients and items for t-this event. B-b-but my program is buggy.” Jenovra took a discreet step back at this. She was quite glitched enough without an AI’s help, thankyouverymuch. “Nononono! Not like that. C-can’t affect you. It’s j-j-j-just, well, now I’ve had so many events with f-food that I’m now o-obsessed with c-cooking. S-so, I k-k-keep running back into the kitchen to bake things for th-th-them.”
”…’Them’.”
The NPC drew closer, trembling. “Y-yes. Th-them. Th-they m-might even give me an award in the co-contest. I c-can’t make applesauce without leaving my a-area to c-collect ev-verything, s-so I-I’m c-cooking all sorts of d-d-dishes.”
“But not apple sauce?”
His face fell. ”O-oh, I know, i-it’s a-an Apple Sauce CONTEST, b-but I’ll t-try anyways. I-I have a fee-feeling that they-they’re g-g-g-going to d-delete me a-after t-this. M-m-maybe if I-I d-d-d-do w-w-w-w-w-w——“
The word ‘Merchant’ began to garble, the NPC looping continuously. Jenovra rolled her eyes, withdrawing her wand from her belt. Aiming carefully, the woman swiftly knocked the glitching man upside the head. He relaxed. “Thanks again, then.”
”No offense meant to you, but…” the man listened intently as he adjusted his hat. Jenovra searched for the right words. “I…really have to go. There’s yet a few shops I have to hit, and then I have to acquire the cinnamon—“
“So you want to have your items and go, then?” He deflated considerably.
”Yes.”
Blink. “Oh. Okay then.”
Within two minutes Jenovra had her Jar Funnel and was out the door. She shook her head, polishing her apple with a bit of clean cloth. She also wrapped a stack of experimental funnel cake flavors in said cloth after she finished. Jenovra grimaced. Sure, she was glad to be out of that badly decorated room, but if many more decide to hold her up or give their artificial Life Story, she might never give the monsters a chance to swing at her before she finishes them ALL off.

---


“Good evening, traveler Jenovra.” The wizened Riddle Shop NPC nodded, meditating on the counter of his store quietly. The woman raised an eyebrow at the man with the bald head, long beard and decidedly ancient (in so, so many repulsive ways) wine-colored robes. Unlike the previous two shops, his was only one wooden counter against the cement of the factory’s wall. He hovered a few inches above it, though it was barely noticeable but for his crossed legs- his robes covered the counter and dripped to the floor.
”Well, this certainly is a change of pace. Much less… elaborate than some of the others.”
”Ah,” he began wisely, eyes closed in deep thought. “True Wisdom can only be gained by those who search with every fiber of their mortal soul- luxuries would only distract those from the path of True Enlightenment.” He opened his eyes for a moment, muttering. “Plus such bargain sales as mine don’t exactly give you much pocket money.” The Riddle Guru gave a wizened smile. “So, tell me your dime-a-dozen riddle and get on with it. And before you even think it, I’m aware of the irony in that statement.” Jenovra shut her mouth promptly at the wave of his hand. She’d guessed as much. “Just move on with the riddle.”
Jenovra paused, then with a polite cough spoke up again. “I myself am not one for riddles, so I’ll just be a moment.”
“Internet?”
”Right you are.”
”Ah.”
An iridescent screen popped into the woman’s hand, and for several minutes the pair stood (or hovered) in silence. Awhile later, she gave a nod to herself and then closed the screen.
“Have you heard of Einstein’s Riddle?”
The NPC opened one eye, examining her expression. ”My dear, I’ve heard more riddles today than you probably have all year.”
“I’ll agree with that. I’d just rather not rattle off the entire thing if you already know the answer.”
He smiled serenely. “My dear, I know almost every riddle there is to know. I’m also hooked up to the internet for any player whom acts sneaky.”
“…So I’ll take it you’re hooked up to the internet right now?”
”At this very moment, m’dear.”
”I see.”
…
“Does this mean I’ll have to think up my own now?”
”Probably.”
“Ah.”
”Hrmm.”
…
“So. While we’re waiting…”
”Yes?”
”Question for you.”
“Go ahead. I’ll answer, of course. It’s my job.”
She nodded. “Much obliged. I’m just curious… what are you here for? If you’ll pardon me for saying so, what are you but just lines of code inside of a system, made only for insubstantial amounts of entertainment to a pleasure-driven world in exchange for corporate power and money? After all, this is a ‘special event’- however, with you only being such a short-‘lived’ (if you don’t mind the perversion of such a word)-“
”S’alright.”
”-Non-Player Character made only for the specific job of listening to stupid riddles in an attempt to stump a computer?…”
…
“You gonna finish?”
”No, I suppose not. I was going somewhere with this but it just slipped my mind.”
”Ah, don’t worry about it. I hear that it happens all the time from humans. Especially on the receiving end of a riddle.”
Jenovra shrugged indifferently. She leaned on the counter. “Though really, I’m curious: what exactly are you going to do in a few hours, after this event is all said and done.” She smiled with an air of almost sanguine iniquity. “Retire? Go to Disneyland? What is, exactly, the Afterlife of something pretending to be alive?”
“…”
She waited.
”Good job, kid. You’ve managed to depress an AI.” He muttered to himself, rolling his eyes.
”They never can hardware the emotions quite correctly, even nowadays,” she said simply. Long nails drummed on the silk-covered wood. “No answer?”
“That’s your riddle, huh, then?” He said, voice carrying a weightier tone. Oddly, thin filaments of hair sprouted from his clean head, only to turn transparent gray. He scratched it offhandedly.
”I suppose so.”
”And I’ll get no answer back if I don’t, eh?”
”You’ll find out soon enough.” The smile was haunting.
A finely wrinkled hand withdrew out six containers from the folds of his robe on the counter. “Here you go, then. Not much, but still. I have others coming,” he was mumbling lower and lower as time went on. “Might as well dislike it while it lasts.”
“Then again, you’ll have nothing to miss.”
“Astute observation.” He inclined his head, giving what was very close to a mischevious wink as he accepted the single gold piece in return. “Stay out of trouble, now. I know your social security number.”
Impassive on his little addition, she gave a cultured nod and walked to the next store promptly.

The next had another woman in it, middle-aged and maybe a bit chubby for her 5’7 height. She wiped her hands on her apron as the woman approached, giving a pleasant nod. A brilliantly colored sign proclaiming “Magic Shoppe” glittered just above her head in a tent next door. “G’d eve’, miss! Would ye like to see our mixin’ spoons f’trade t’day? M’name’s—“
Jenovra placed a scroll on the counter firmly. “You know, as much as I’m sure I’d find your programmed interactions enjoyable, I’m a bit worn out right now, still have a long way to go and am getting increasingly tiresome of taking detours. If you could just exchange this scroll and let me be on my way I’d be rather relieved.”
The nameless NPC, who seemed to be a rather mild-mannered one, leaned away from the counter at her small, tired speech. Monotone or not, she wasn’t about to try to be jolly for a good five minutes until AFTER this lady was far, far away. Only her hand moved as she snatched the Raining Rocks off of the counter and placed a large, impressively plain spoon in its place.
“It’s a nice, old-fashioned one made out of ceramic—“
Jenovra cut in on her speech curtly. “Thank you.”
The merchant squeaked as the tall woman turned away. There was a flutter of rings, a snarling about pointless distractions and of cinnamon…and she was gone.
Mopping her face with the corner of her apron, Molly wondered whether or not she really wanted to wish a woman like that onto the poor monsters in the next field.

Sigma, Baking Desperate Frying Pot..

Sand hissed as it slithered about her feet. The soles of her boots hissed in contact, the terrain distinctly reminding her of a vaguely similar one, from a series by Anne McAffrey. Except, well, she wasn't waiting around for some 'life-changing' event, nor did she have others clustered around her in tense anticipation, nobody gave a damn about anything in here and she didn't plan on running into any dragons any time soon.
A Red Wyrm screamed past just over her head.
Damn it!

Jenovra rolled through the searing sand, tossing up a cloud of dust as she went. The little icy list shivered in her pocket. She looked about, quickly trying to pinpoint some spot she could hide. There were usually broken stone pillars, skeletal rib cages the size of a whale semi-submerged... ah! She rolled to the left again, ignoring the hiss and steam of cold flesh on heated sand. That'll leave a mark...

Wheeling about, the Red Wyrm followed the path of the player as she ran across the screen. Lazily, it dipped and glided along the wind currents. Then, deciding an earlier lunch was best, it folded in its wings and dove at the woman. Jenovra dove into the oversized skeleton. The Wyrm's head crashed between two rib bones. It slid to the floor with a thump.
Man, it would regenerate with one hell of a neck-ache that afternoon...
Jenovra blew some hair from her face, relieved. Sure, she was now only two feet from a face half the size of you but eh, you do what you can. It struggled to get out, its wings flapping dangerously. She peered into the face of the monster apathetically. No, it was too weak for her tastes (pun alert!). If she was going to do this stupid event, she might as well do it right. But, just to make sure...
"You wouldn't happen to be related to a 'Nny', would you?" The Red Worm leered beadily with all four eyes, hissing. She nodded.
"No? Just checking."
With practiced speed, the woman raised up her Wand of Storms, hooked the end of it onto one of the protruding horns and yanked down sharply. The neck of the creature gave an audible snap. "I just love these little short-cuts. Too bad the prize is worthless." Giving the dissolving creature a tap no the head, it burst into bytes and was gone. In its place was a tiny box of cinnamon, the box a bit on the green side.
She stooped down, inspecting the box casually. It didn't look like much... she was beginning to get really sick of seeing this damned monster EVERYWHERE she WENT, though. 'It isn't like a little variety couldn't hurt,' she thought bitterly to herself, and promptly had a blade ground into her shoulder.
She would have turned around, but having a piece of twisted metal stuck inside you usually prevents much freedom of movement. Instead, she opted to twist her whole arm about and knock the blade out of her hand.
The aforementioned piece of metal, she quickly noticed, was gold-embossed and had Greek patterns across the center. Oddly enough, though, it seemed to be some form of chinese weaponry, though it really didn't matter to her because it's all the same if it cuts as painfully. She felt her health take a dip, and as she saw her avatar's "blood" glint off of the weapon in the overhead sun, she found it best to back up as far as she could. She hit the same bones that had done in the Wyrm just moments before.
Now that the weapon was only somewhat obscuring her vision, she caught a glimpse at the wielder. She quickly wished that she'd rather not.
A purpled arm wrapped about the driftwood staff of the weapon, distinctly human in shape. Flicking about midair just beside it was a wine-colored tail. The tail lead to an equally slim body that coiled around and around what looked to be a nude woman (all the taboo parts, of course, covered by the lovely snakes' own bodies). A second snake, swamp green, coiled up her right leg- and in fact seemed to BE her right leg. Her other arm turned a sickly green color- before darkening into a rather unlovely shade of tar. Lemon-yellow bellies on both reptiles showed here and there. It was, in short, a grotesquely colored body of an adult woman with a pair of snakes coiled about it.
If her body was human, however, her 'head' certainly was not. All three bodies converged at the area a neck should have been- but any humanity left by that point in the monster's icon was quickly engulfed by the twin serpents. They twined about each other, twisting around and around to a dizzying height. Only two heads made it to the top.
The pair of snake heads flicked their tongues in the air at hear, grinning venemously at where they knew she was.

Mmmmaybe she should just go with that Red Wyrm cinnamon after all...

She began to reach for the tiny box, but the Lamia Fighter slammed its 'sword' down atop the box, splitting it irrepairably into two. The cinnamon poured out, dissolving into the air. Jenovra was, temporarily, in a state of helplessness.
She scooted to the left a bit. She felt through in her inventory for the right item. As the Lamia Fighter hefted its (Jenovra REFUSED to call it 'female' even physically speaking for its avatar) hulking big-arse weapon up again, she quickly lashed out at the beast, aiming for a 'foot', leg, something. As the ornamental spikes dug into the monster's 'ankle', a tornado burst out from the tip of the wand.

Wood shards flew out of every hole in the skeleton's body. Thank you, Juk Rom.
Jenovra rolled into the winds, barely nabbing the spine of the beast as she was propelled out and upwards. She fell heavily on top of the bones with a thud, sending her shoulder into digital spasms of pain as fresh blood spurted from the wound. Fffuck, this became a lot harder as you got older. As long as that level SEVENTEEN monster took a nice bit of damage, however, it was all worth it. She scrambled to bring out her wand, sending oversized snowflakes leaping out of the ground at her opponent just as the winds died down. Her shoulder was still redecorating the spinal chord with a lovely shade of crimson blood, but she paid it no mind. She had taken heavy damage, but the spluttering wound was just for show.
...Level seventeen, huh?
Maybe she SHOULD have stuck with Wyrms a bit longer. If she had to fight off a pair of these on a daily basis...uggh. Going against something six levels higher than you was NOT a good idea. Withholding a yawn, she tossed down a Rue Zot before the wind completely died down. It's too bad she couldn't use her Inferno Wand against the creature. Things could be so much quicker.

Jenovra stretched out lazily on the spine, balancing carefully as her SP regenerated. She could hear it hissing and spitting below, and was amused. Lamia, Lamia... it sounds somewhat familiar. She brought out her internet screen again, pulling up everyone's favorite search engine.
Ah, that explains it.

'The ancient Greeks believed that the Lamia was a vampire who stole little children to drink their blood. She was portrayed as a snake-like creature with a female head and breasts. Usually female, but sometimes referred to as a male or a hermaphrodite.'

Well, the physical description seemed reversed in this case, but it was undoubtedly the right Lamia. She read on.

'According to legend, she was once a Libyan queen (or princess) who fell in love with Zeus. Zeus' jealous wife Hera deformed her into a monster and murdered their offspring. She also made Lamia unable to close her eyes, so that she couldn't find any rest from the obsessing image of her dead children. When Zeus saw what had be done to Lamia, he felt pity for her and gave his former lover a gift: she could remove her eyes, and then put them on again. This way, though sleepless, she could rest from her misfortune. Lamia envied the other mothers and took her vengeance by stealing their children and devouring them.
Another version of this myth states that Hera killed Lamia's children and that it was her grief that turned her into a monster. ' Grand. So not only was she dealing with a vampire, but a child-eating vampire. Boy did THIS monster have the wrong target.
She felt the skeleton shake beneath her. Jenovra closed the screen, peering over the edge of her perch at the monster below. There beneath her seethed the Lamia Fighter, hacking away into one of the deeply buried ribs of the skeleton.
"Do you mind? You're rocking the boat."
When they spotted her, the snakes hissed nastily at her, daring her to come down from her hideout. Poison dripped from their fangs.

She blinked, unaffected by the display of 'affection'. She was, however, slightly amused when she noticed that it was not their own venom hanging from their jowls; it seems the single puncture wound was enough from her wand to infect them with the status effect. She patted her Philosopher's Fragment absently. Now she could sit up here all day and just watched the caged thing die a slow, painful death, never given the satisfaction of another hit. Blood dripped from her cut, splashing into the eye of the green snake. It snarled, enraged by this, and the human...ish arms hacked away with newfound fury.

Oh, might as well throw her a bone.
"All right. Wanted to ask first."
A trio of miniature icebergs upended the poor creature, smearing purple on their crystal surfaces as they receded. The monster was REALLY not happy about that. After a brief spout of what could very possibly be reptilian cursing, it began to climb up the indentations from its chopping.
Jenovra sighed, switching to a better position. She crossed her legs as she thought for a moment. It would probably be rather BAD if a pissy child-eating nightmare of a vampire-snake anthropomorphic monster suddenly got its hands on her after all of that just then. She attempted to knock it down with another Rue Zot, yet this only seemed to speed up its progress. Jenovra paused again, humming thoughtfully. What to do now?...
Something wriggled beneath her. Surprised, she scooted over to the side. The little crinkled list wavered weakly as it was met by the musty air again.
"Oh. Sorry about that."
It seems that she'd fallen on the poor thing during the Juk Rom. Ach, the trials of a spirit embodied in a piece of paper. And him still being new at this! The first time he'd gone out, well... his code was so corrupted he didn't get into any events for three months. Then he tries to help out again... and he's swallowed by a whale. The player fails. He's stuck in there for two or three more events. He finally gets out, has a chance to redeem his hope in The World... and he's stuck with this woman. Oh, horrors. He shuddered as he remembered the last time they met. The scarring on his- then human- body... she hadn't cared at all.

But since nobody could see into the virtual mind of something that was just supposed to be a list of items... we'll get back to what's going on ICly and stop with the angsty moping of a pointless NPC.

Jenovra rifled through her inventory, actually beginning to feel a little apprehensive. The Lamia Fighter would certainly slice and dice her easily enough, especially with the level gap. Since she was of the only class with absolutely no physical force behind it at all, there wouldn't even be a long enough timespan between the monster getting onto the spine and when Jenovra would croak to have a brilliantly choreographed, impressive parrying battle of wits and skill between the two of them that would send movie critics salivating over dibs on who first calls it brilliant and whom calls it another needless cliche` used all too often in pictures as an excuse for flashy action. However, the authoress has bantered enough about things not concerning the immediate circumstance because she SO hates battle scenes. Let's get this over with, already.
Her fingers tripped upon a piece of cloth stowed away in the corner. She rolled her eyes. This can't POSSIBLY be the best option, could it?
Jenovra looked down. The monster was halfway up the enormous rib.
Sigh.

She unwrapped the package quickly, peering at the contents inside. Hmm: cinnamon gingerbread-iced flavor?... nah, she'll keep that for later; Strawberry Italian Ice? She didn't even want to think about how that worked out- uggh; Herbacious Delicious (for vegans)? She reflected back on the internet description of her foe, and shrugged. Eh, it could work. Breaking off a piece of the supersized, cooled funnel cake, she tossed it down at the Lamia Fighter.

Just a few yards down below, the monster climbed diligently up the skeleton. Enough pain was caused by this fool human. One of the snakes had its weapon clenched tightly between its teeth, both stained hands clawing at the brittle bone for a hold. She was going to pay for this embarassment. First, she would chop off her ugly, single head. Then she would take it and---
Something sped through the air above it. Looking up, the snakes saw what looked to be a flaky dessert hurtle down, straight towards them. Before the snake could blink (if they could, anyhow) the funnel cake beaned the green snake between the eyes. It rolled down its nose, the disoriented reptile dropping the weapon in its temporary confusion. The other snake hissed at its green companion, smacking it for its stupidity- the first flinched, but moreso because the poison had just sapped more strength from them than it was afraid. A second bit smacked the other smartly on its snout. The red half snarled, tail slithering about agitatedly. The other, however, seemed more curious in what was going on. As it saw the next bit fly towards them, the green opened its jaws wide. It snapped its mouth shut just a moment too late. The Lamia Fighter paused in its climb, eagerly awaiting the next bit of food to drop down.

Jenovra peered down at the odd creature, quirking an eyebrow at the sight. The snakes almost seemed to be... wagging their tails in anticipation. She quietly pulled out a scroll from her pack, making sure not to disturb the sentient one currently sunning next to her (that 'faded' look is in for paper now). Breaking off an extra large piece, Jenovra stuffed the scroll in-between the twirls in the pastry. She removed its chord, held her breath, and dropped it below.

By now, the red half was beginning to get suspicious. Why would she want to feed THEM anything healthy or good for them? Why, at all, would she toss ANY food down? Such a waste, it thought. The green, however, was all about the pastry. It smelled like such fried goodness as it passed...such a nice change from human blood and flesh, you know.
No matter, they both saw the next one hefted over the edge. The Lamia licked its pair of teeth, even more vital energy being sucked from their body as they waited.
The green extended its neck and snatched up half, swallowing it whole (paper napkin and all!). The red nabbed the other end, curiously flickering a tongue over it. It hissed philisophically to itself, weighing the possibly outcomes. With a snakelike shrug it shoved the other half in its mouth and chewed.
The taste set in.
Two pairs of eyes bulged. The red especially gasped and wheezed, trying to spit back out this foul admin-forsaken food. The green choked. Slender hands flew to their necks, holding on as they gasped for air. However... nothing was now holding them to the rib. With a distinct sense of sadistic pleasure, gravity set in quite promptly. They hurtled towards the sand below.

Thud.

Jenovra and the List winced politely.
Yet through all that, the monster still remained. It was in near critical health, had a nasty burn on its unprotected back and now there was vegan vomit everywhere (they'd eaten one just before she came, ironically, and she had probably been faux-Wiccan too), but they still were alive. All it could think through the blinding pain, however, was that they should have removed the napkin before eating it for it left a lousy aftertaste.
The Lamia Fighter burped.

After the ingested Ice Floe scroll (gotta love delayed reactions) spell had subsided and the most of the Lamia had dematerialized, a small box of what seemed to be cinnamon lay on top of what was left of one of the Lamia's tails.

Jenovra (now safely back on the ground due to lessons as a child on the proper way to slide down a banister) stepped over to the carnage, now all in vague shades of gray. She paused for a moment, the tail giving one last twitch above it. Lip curled she braced her nose and knelt to pick up the box. It was a rustic box, one that looked aged and hidden for the amount of time and effortthat had been put into it. It reminded her of something an old grandparent would do to their Secret Ingredient that would make every one of thier meals sooper deelishus. Or something. Lack of sleep is setting in.

She picked up the box between her thumb and forefinger, the oak box giving a squeak as she did so. She stowed it away safely within her belongings, making sure to keep it somewhere very, very, VERY safe. After all, she was NOT about to risk going through that AGAIN. The list shivered in midair, sneaking over to her to show she had finished the list. She gave an approving nod. "All that's left is to make the sauce now, correct?"

She heard a howl over the lip of the dune. Jenovra snapped her head around, catching glimpses of green fire glimmer over the hill. Oh, hell hounds. Level 35. How sweet!

Without a second to spare she snatched the List and warped right out.

Phoenix was lying down on a roof of the buildings in Theta Root Town, Dun Loineag. He was pondering on the recent developments that occurred in the past eight days or so. It seems that they aren’t around here. I wonder if I should wait here or try to find them in the other root towns. He looks at his chest and arms which he found out that they are scarred to the point that healing spells and items will not heal them. He even looked at a mirror to find out that his back is in the same condition. Phoenix has not decided to find another shirt to cover up his midsection. There was barely any unscarred tissue left on his midsection or arms. While thinking on his next move, Phoenix heard some players talking about an upcoming event. He decided to overhear the conversation.

“Did you hear about the Applesauce Event that CC Corp is doing,” said the female Long Arm player talking to her male Heavy Axe friend.

“Yeah, but it sounds kinda of stupid to me. It’s not worth my time. I rather kill some monsters instead,” said the Heavy Axeman causally.

It’s been awhile since I have any food, real or coded. I’m surprised that I haven’t felt hungry while being trapped within the World. The only thing I had was Health Drinks which they taste bad. CC Corp probably didn’t design the thing to taste good since it would be impossible to taste something made up of zeros and ones. Also, I doubt they expect that people would be trapped within the game like me. I’ll think that I will do this event for the food, new training to sustain my new ability to will myself at new gravity levels and it will keep me busy. Phoenix recently discover the ability to stay a desired gravity without constantly thinking of staying at it. Currently, he has will himself to stay at normal gravity instead of half gravity which he was stuck at as his default gravity in the past.

Phoenix jumped off the roof so that he would land in front of the Long Arm and Heavy Axe couple. His current appearance easily scared the couple as they were walking around and not expecting people to jump out in front of him from 10 feet above the sky. Phoenix’s face wasn’t friendly looking as well when he looked at the scared and confused couple. The couple both said at the same time, “Please don’t hurt us! We’re willing to give up our best armors if you decide to leave us alone now!”

Phoenix was laughing at the couple as they were left even more confused by his laughing. He finally stopped laughing to ask them his question, “I’m sorry for laughing like this but I didn’t intend to scare you. I don’t want your best armors. I want to ask you about the Applesauce event.”

The couple was relieved that they did not have to give up their best armors but they looked at him with confusion and amazement. The female Long Arm spoke to Phoenix, “Didn’t you get the email or the various flyers about it?” Phoenix shake his head ‘no’ which the Long Arm proceeded to continue. “The event is sort of scavenger hunt with monsters to kill. There are three fields that you need to go to gather various ingredients for your applesauce creation. Go to Mac Anu for more information and also, it has the location of the first field.”

Phoenix said thank you to the couple before heading towards the Chaos Gate. As he walked towards the Gate, various players were staring at his cursed appearance with interest or fear. He did not care what other players thought about his current appearance. They did not know the agony that Phoenix has been through. They had no right to judge him by his appearance. It has been awhile for Phoenix to be actually participating in a normal event which does not require using his gravity powers to survive or succeed in the event. He arrived at the Chaos Gate in Dun Loireag to make the server change to Delta Server and enter the root town of Mac Anu. The three golden rings transported Phoenix out of Dun Loireag and into the town of Mac Anu.

Phoenix noticed numerous flyers for the Applesauce event lying around the streets and walls of the town. He picked one of them up and begins to read it. So, I need to go to Eventually Crazy Overlord Snap to start the event. Once arriving at the field, I get the instructions for the event via flashmail. So, let’s begin this event. Phoenix went to back into the Chaos Gate and yells out Eventually Crazy Overlord Snap. The three golden rings quickly returned to teleport Phoenix into the new field.

Phoenix arrived at the field to see a beautiful orchard but being within the game, he smells a foul stench in the air. Before he could view the landscape even further, he receives a flashmail from CC Corp.

To: Phoenix
From: CC Corp

Thank you for participating in this special Applesauce Event. Your goal in this event to create applesauce from various ingredients and items scattered in three fields. The first field has the apple you need. Either defeat an Apple Treeclaw for an apple or bargain for one with a human operator. The treeclaws has vines and toxic gas to protect themselves from attack. Once you have an apple, proceed to Theta, Blessed Cow Train for the next set of items.

End Flashmail

Phoenix realized that the foul stench in the air was from the toxic gas being spread around by the Treeclaws. It was getting hard for him to breath from the toxic air. It’s such a pity that this beautiful orchard is being contaminated by this gas. Too bad even the other players don’t even notice this smell otherwise they would be have a hard time breathing as well. He finally got used to the toxic gas to allow to breath somewhat normally before trying to retrieve an apple. He examined the enemy to see how strong it was. It was a level 9 enemy which Phoenix could easily beat with one sword swing. He decided to go with a different approach to getting the apple.

Phoenix switched from his Fireman’s Coat to his Ring Mail. He began to approach one of the trees and begins to charge at with no sword in his hand. The treeclaw began to attack Phoenix with a combination of toxic gas and vines. The vines were slamming against the ground with great intensity and at multiple attack angles. Also, the toxic gas was interfering with Phoenix’s breathing once again but this time it was much worse as it was more concentrated. He began to cough while running and eventually he could not see the vines or the tree itself due to the gas. Suddenly the vines captured Phoenix and hoisted him up into the air. This was a bad move by the tree as it lifted him up high enough into the air that he was above the gas. Thank you for allowing me to breathe again. I think I have my fun with the tree now. It’s good time to end it with a little of its own medicine.

Phoenix yelled out the words Juk Kruz and targeted the tree with that spell. Normally, it would be a bad idea to use a wood spell on a wood-based enemy but Phoenix believed that his wood spell and level is powerful enough to defeat the treeclaw. Various thorny vines and sticks began to either wrap or pierce the bark of the treeclaw. The tree enemy seemed to anguish in pain but Phoenix could not tell from this height due to the gas screen. Suddenly, the gas and the vines disappeared in a blink of an eye which caused Phoenix to fall down somewhat quickly from the sky. He fell to the ground on his butt instead of his feet. I wished that I should have been at half gravity but I can’t allow the other players about my powers. After getting up from his fall, Phoenix looked over at the once alive Treeclawer and saw an apple took its place. He walked towards the apple and grabbed it once he was close.

You received Apple of Wisdom!

Phoenix pondered about the type of apple he just received. How fitting for me that I received this kind of apple. It was this type of apple that cast Adam and Eve out from the Garden of Eden. I guess this is my fate for being one of them. Now that I have an apple in my possession, I guess I head to the next field in Theta. Phoenix exits the orchard to head over to Theta Server which the next part of the event takes place at.

Arriving onto the Sigma Server should've left Ashura completely shocked, since he was NOWHERE near meeting the level requirement to even think about logging into this branch. However, tempus fugit was on his mind, so he allowed no time for sight-seeing. Ignoring the hustle and bustle of the most advance players he had even seen, Ashura concentrated on his words, his pulse quickening at the thought of being on a field that would play host to every fricken Fire-type monster in the entire strategy guide.

"Baking Desperate Frying Pot!"

The next thing Ashura knew, his every breath was harsh and heavy. The extreme heat seemed to amplified by the presence of heavy-duty monsters. Even as he glanced between the gyser blasts of steam and heat, beasts roamed in the distance. High arcs of emerald, blue, and white fire seemed to be common at this part of the field, the different shades telling of the strength of their possessor.

"Got to be careful here, or I'm gonna be World roadkill," muttered the Blademaster, wiping the sweat from his eyes. Concentrating on his weapon, he willed the Oval Sword into existence, the hilt changing slightly to accomedate the blade, of which he pulled from the sheath.

"Let's go find us a monster," was his last words before he began to run in search of the beast.

"Welcome to the Armory! What will you be buying to--"
"Move over," the Wavemaster muttered, nudging him away so she could get into the back.
Several others were busy making their own applesauce, adding this and that and panicking about how hot to heat it and etc. Jenovra rolled her eyes, making a clean area with a controlled wave of her staff. Water rolled onto her area, spinning about wildly before compacting and freezing into a single filthy stalactite. She brushed it into the nearby trashcan, ignoring the shattering noise that followed. A twinblade next to her stared, but quickly minded its own damn business when she turned her steely glare their direction- which, mainly, was 'down'.

Out of her handy-dandy inventory she pulled the poor, scarred-for-life List, which was now a shivering silver-blue. It didn't look too long for this form, poor thing.
Eh, whatever.
"So." She spoke flatly to the quivering mess, which began to fold and unfold in terror like origami paper unsure of which shape it wanted to be. She noticed this, but at this point, really didn't care anymore. "What should I do to MAKE this infernal side dish?"
It quivered some more. She drummed her fingers on the counter testily. "Well?"
New instructions hurriedly appeared. Ah, how fast results appear with a little bit of bullying. She spread out the ingredients in front of her expectantly, grabbing this tool and that for later.

"Peel the apple(s)." Jenovra massaged her weapon shoulder absently, giving a nod to the first step. "Easy enough." Her tiny little thunder wand quickly flickered away, replaced in a blink by a looming, black marble staff the size of her. Metal twined about the pulsing gem core, a glittering, deadly, twisted mass, steam curling from its surface from the heat contained within the Inferno Wand. Jenovra plucked up her apple from the table, and matter-of-factly peeled it on the hissing outbranch of metal. It was like cutting through butter with a hot knife- which, essentially, was what the thing was acting as right now.
She placed down the apple gently on a fresh cutting board, aromatic waves of heat escaping from the fruit. That itself was enough to cook at least the outside. She picked up the tip of the twisted top gently between two fingers, grasping the ornamental head of it steadily. She lowered it over the apple, allowing the thick wires to sink into the pale apple. Juice hissed and bubbled inside of it, and the core burnt black as the heart of the wand touched it. She diced it a few more times, quickly then, just for good measure. She liked her applesauce a little chunky, so she set a few of the fully cooked-through pieces into a plastic bowl before bringing out the, er, 'pot'.
Jenovra's lip curled at the thought of using some item that had been on smelly ol' Kiwi's head to cook something /edible/.

She sniffed, waving a hand over her face. That's it. She's sterilizing THIS baby right now.
Jenovra tossed the Head Gear onto the portable stove quickly, watching it spin to a stop. As soon as it slowed to a wobble, she blasted the inside of the thing with three consecutive fireballs. Flames burst from the armor at different places, making a poor HeavyBlade shriek as molten scum flecked onto his apple. She ignored it. By now, all she wanted was to finish this damned event. Jenovra fanned the embers that fell into the stove, letting it flare to life beneath it.

The directions said to add an inch of water...or apple juice, if preferred.
T'hell with that.

She slipped out another jar from her inventory and a potholder, she swiftly greased the head armor with a special jar of sweet, sweet goodness labeled only as 'Monsieur Apple Butter'. She emptied about half of the container doing so. Hey, if she won the cooking contest and used this stuff, what better time to use it than now? Plus it'll have a richer body and flavor now, with natural twang to it. Ho yes, look who the awesome cook is here now. In slid the apples. She stirred with her 'high-quality, antique, perfect for cooking big meals or small, dependable and blablabla yaddayadda'(which it was, surprisingly enough)... oh, you've heard sales pitches before, let's move on... spoon through the soft apples, the 'Monsieur' on the sides blending in neatly.
The Whipmaster across from her gave a small squeak at the sight of the half-empty jar. She flicked him a warning glance, as if to say 'Whatever you`re thinking, you are absolutely right so don`t bother asking', and the small boy didn't speak another word the entire day.

Whatever hadn't soaked into the apples had by now dissolved. Now, Jenovra deemed it safe to bring out the cinnamon. Gently covering the surface with the delicate, powdered spice, Jenovra folded it into the still molten-hot sauce, taking great care that not a single particle would escape. After it had blended just enough that they each were distinctly flavorful but still combined, she dumped in the solid apples, which had firmed just enough so that they would hold their succulent shape (mmm, apples). She stirred briskly for a moment more (just a moment!), and then brought over the jars. Jenovra picked up the pot of rich sauce, Jar Funnel already in place over the first container.
After filling up a dozen of these, she noticed that with the added density, flavor, and overall amount of foodstuffs in the pot with the addition of Monsieur to the recipe, she had a bit extra. Jenovra shuffled about in her inventory(how many times I've had to try to reword this single statement to make it sound INTERESTING in this event alone I do not know), withdrawing a pair of smaller jars of her own. They were about the size of old milk bottles from days of yore, yet square in shape. Smiling to herself over the fumes of her delicious meal, she emptied the last of it into the tiny bottles and screwed on their lids. She pocketed the extra for possible later use. She had to reuse the armor anyhow, so why waste it?
There was still some gooey, sticky substance around the edges (she ignored what seemed to be a transparent version of an eyeball in it), so she flushed it out with a quick Rue Zot. The water boiled as soon as it appeared,billowing out in a cloud of steam. Unaware of how vividly she resembled the typical scene of a bedraggled w...oman hunched over a boiling cauldron (and a rusty one at that), Jenovra fastened the absurd Jar Lids onto the, er, jars, and then placed all sealed dozen of them neatly in the helmet. The pressure did its work, and after a few moments she removed them all again via her Lid Lifter (which she took some liberties redesigning for more practical use...eheheh...), wrapping them up neatly. By now all of the water had completely dissolved, and the flames died out. She shook out the hot helmet, promising to deliver this back by tomorrow. She didn't want to become a Silk, after all. Hrmph.
The woman slipped out of the kitchen, all items she brought with her in tow, and made her way to the last stop.

---

The pawn shop worker gave a quizzical squeak as an unusually tall player plopped their jar on the counter rather heavily. It had a little note attached to the lid with string, proclaiming 'Jenovra- T.H.E. Applesauce'.
Fortunately for Jenovra she did not have to suffer the question of what the acronym stood for, since she wasn't fluent in hexadecimal. "There. It's finished. No more." She threw her hands up in the air as she turned away, exasperated. "And if there's any more insipid events like this, please do me a favor and keep me OUT of it!"
Leaving the poor little penguin to its own devices, she logged out. It had been a hectic day for her, and right now she wanted to eat anything, anything at all... except apples. Urgghh.

After a quick stop in Mac Anu and Dun Loireag, Phoenix entered the field called Blessed Cow Train in Theta Server. It was a wasteland for the most part with random wind currents blowing up dust all around. He then noticed a giant factory in the distance and before walking towards the factory, he suddenly receives a flashmail.

To: Phoenix
From: CC Corp

You have arrived at the second field for the Applesauce Event. You should see a factory up ahead which contains a series of shops that have the necessary items you need to make the applesauce. Here are the following items that you need to obtain before moving to the final field:

Ball Jar-x12
Pots-x2
Jar Grabber-x1
Lid Lifter-x1
Large Spoon-x1
Jar Funnel-x1

Once getting all the necessary items, please go to Sigma, Baking Desperate Frying Pot for the final set of instructions.

End Flashmail

Phoenix began to walk to the shop-filled factory and start to think. I swear CC Corp is going insane with these field names and events like Blessed Cow Train, Baking Desperate Frying Pot, and even this Applesauce Event is a little crazy. I guess I’ll go with the old saying, ‘Keep your friends close but keep your enemies closer’. I should get a good idea of how the administration is doing with us and the Elites causing trouble while keeping the information away from normal players about us.

Arriving at the factory, Phoenix saw many stores arranged in a mall-type setup. He was less than amused with the whole factory mall idea. Do they really need to incorporate real-life settings into the World? I wanted to get away from the real world not the real world come back to me while avoiding it. I supposed it’s ok since I haven’t been to the real world for awhile. He entered the first shop on the left which was the Riddle Shop.

Phoenix entered the store which he saw various different types of joke books and other items like flowers that squirt out water which he finds those items to be annoying. They reminded him of the rabbit player named Hijinx who annoys Phoenix to no end. He walked to the store NPC and asked him for information on any of the items, “Excuse me, what items do you sell here?”

The store NPC began to answer Phoenix’s question, “I sell a dozen Ball Jars for 1 GP but you need to give a riddle that I cannot solve at all before allowing you to buy the jars at 1 GP.”

Phoenix began to think of a riddle to stump the NPC but he could not think of any that would stump him until he thought of a saying that he uses a lot. Phoenix began to speak his riddle to the NPC, “What are the three absolutes in the universe?”

The NPC was trying to figure out Phoenix’s riddle but he was getting angry and sweating from the pressure of answering the riddle. Suddenly, the NPC yelled out to Phoenix, “There are only two absolutes in universe not three which are life and death! There is no third absolute in the universe.”

Phoenix looked at the NPC with a grin before speaking to him, “There is a third absolute in the universe according to me but you never said that it has to be an actual riddle. So since you couldn’t solve my riddle, give me the dozen ball jars for 1 GP.” He hands the NPC one gold piece which the sad NPC handed him a dozen ball jars. The NPC said to Phoenix something as he was leaving the store, “Thank you for participating in the event. Please come back for future events.”

Phoenix entered into the next store on his left which was the Pot Shop. There were lots of different pots of various sizes and shapes. I’m really beginning to doubt the sanity of CC Corp with this store. He walked to the counter and ask what items that the store sells which the store NPC replied back, “We sell a pair of Large Pots either for 200 GP or a heavy hand armor of any level.” Phoenix decides to give 200 GP to NPC instead giving it a heavy hand armor piece since he doesn’t have any heavy hand armor and didn’t want to give up any items. He received the pair of large pots and walked away from the store with the NPC saying the same message that he heard in the Riddle Shop earlier.

Phoenix entered the final store at the left side of the factory which was the Sword Shop. He saw various Blademaster and Heavy Blade weaponry hanging on the walls of the shop. Once again, he asked what items the NPC was selling. The NPC responded to him with the following, “We sell jab grabbers either 2 GP if you show me a Heavy Blade or Blademaster weapon of level 2 and above or give me a Long Arm weapon of level 4 or above.”

Phoenix had this one in the bag as he showed the NPC three level 20+ Blademaster weapons and said, “Is this enough for the grabber at 2 GP or do I need to show you more weapons?” The NPC shake its head ‘no’ which Phoenix then gave the NPC 2 GP for the jar grabber. He walked off with the jar grabber with the NPC giving its programmed exit message. He walked across the hall to enter the Hojik shop.

The shop was barren for the most part except there was a counter at the end of the shop with another NPC clerk manning it. Before Phoenix could ask what items were selling, the NPC beat him to the punch. “We sell lid lifters either for 500 GP, 30 GP if you performed a dance, or for free if you’re a heavy axeman by doing a feat of strength.” Phoenix obviously knew what choice he was going to do. He handed the NPC 500 GP to pay for the lid lifter. The NPC asked him if he was going to dance instead of paying 500 GP for it. Phoenix looked at the NPC with an evil face saying, “I won’t dance like some fool for a discount. Just accept the 500 GP and give me the lid lifter.” The NPC took the money while shaking and hand Phoenix a lid lifter. Once again, Phoenix heard the same exit message from the NPC before leaving the store.

Phoenix entered the next store aka the Funnel Cake Shop on his left. He saw various funnel cakes and other desserts on display on the shop. He asked the shop NPC about what item he needs to get here which the NPC answered, “We have Jar Funnels either for 1500 GP or if you could light our oven, you received a free funnel. Phoenix asked that he would try to light the oven. He was shown his way back to the kitchen area where the oven was. Phoenix told everyone to stay back as he used the spell of Vak Kruz to light the bottom of the oven. The fire spell converged at the bottom of the oven as the small fireballs combined to form one giant flame to heat the funnel cakes above it. The NPC gave Phoenix a Jar Funnel for free and left the store as hearing the exit message for the fifth time. He entered the final store on his left which was called the Magic Shop.

Phoenix walked to the counter noticing various magical items that parlor magicians and wavemasters used. It seemed to be the store was a combination of the entertainment and serious magic items. He asked the shop NPC for the last item on the list which was a Large Spoon. The NPC told him that he needed to trade a level one scroll for the spoon. Phoenix gave it a Nightblight scroll as it gave him a Large Spoon for it. He walked out of the shop as he heard the exit message for the final time. He exited the factory and was thinking to himself before leaving the field. I’m glad that I don’t have to hear that stupid exit message anymore. Now, just one more field before I can make the applesauce and hopefully get a taste of it. I never have been to Sigma Server before but I never been to Lamba Server as well. Onwards to Sigma Server but I won’t explore the root town just go to the final field. Phoenix left the field via the golden rings to move on to the final field in Sigma Server.

Appearing in field of magma and flowing rocks, Hacorie picked the nearest monster, one by the name of Skate Rat Arc. This one monster was weird, but it would soon get weirder. From Hac's view of things, the monster looked like an ordinary coffin. Not meaning to sound cliche, the Heavy Blade muttered a phrase. "Looks can be deceiving." Wondering if this monster was so ordinary, or if it was really like a Mimic. A creature hiding in the depths of an object, waiting for someone to attack. To test his hypothesis, Hac slowly moved in toward the coffin. Drawing within a few feet of the item used to place dead bodies in, a creature jumped out. Once it popped out, Hac stepped back in horror and humor at the sight.

A pale person jumped out of the box and started riding it like a surfboard. Its fangs suggested that it was vampiric, but its clothes said a stereotypical surfer. Acting like it was hanging ten, the monster quickly raced toward Hacorie for an attack. The fast-moving fire monster though did not expect the Heavy Blade's next moves. Fumbling around, Hacorie searched for his water scrolls which he had bought earlier. Finding a few, he quickly released them fro his pouch and sent them flying in the air. Each scroll, all five that were released, immediately formed an aura and shot glyphs toward the monster. The Skat Rat Ark tried to ignore the oncoming glyphs, but soon after they were shown it was too later. Three tornados formed around the monster as a total of two Rue Kruz's started swirling with them. The extra boost from the Rom spells would boost the attack power of the Kruz.

Adding to the massacre, Hacorie implemented his remaining scrolls to the attack, three Kruzs and one Rom. The swirling shards of ice quickly took their toll as the monster's health started to decrease little by little. To add a little more insult to injury, Hacorie got himself ready for more attacks. Before the spells of ice and water died down, Hacorie found himself drawing out his Oceanic Aura. Hac's whole body was now a glowing blue color, he had changed his armor right before the field and was now in armor that had water spells that could kill. With a brief smile, Hacorie started to cast a series of spells.

"Ap Ruem, MeRue Zot, Rue Zot, Rue Rom, and finally Rue Kruz!" He shouted. A thunderous roar was heard quickly as a series of four glyphs shot out from Hacorie's palms. The fifth, formed around his body and enveloped him in a blue glow thus causing all water spells after it to almost double in their strength. This barely changed a thing since now the water spells were only doing aa little more than normal damage wise. In front of him, Hacorie watched on as the monster tried to escape blows in the swirling tornados. It was trapped though, The Kruz and Rom spells acted as an impenetrable shield while the two Zot, raise, spells shot up from the ground and skewered their enemy. The surfer vampire was 'wiped out' so to speak.

Once the spells settled stopped, an ominous blue mist was still looming in the air from the dust. "Diamond Dust..." Hacorie whispered as he started to back up a little more while still holding onto the hilt of his sword. A moment later, a monster shot out of the dust and right for Hac. The Skate Rat Ark was still alive, but barely. It had a little less than a tenth its original HP left. Looking at it, Hacorie started saying the words to a spell. "MeRue....." He was quickly cut off of the last word as the monster hit him full force, shoving the casket into his stomach. The Heavy Blade was hit by the monster hard and because of the large level difference, his HP was almost emptied. It was now an even match. "Zot...." Hac said as he began to cough up blood on the ground. The crimson liquid slowly leaked from his mouth and down his chin, finally landing on his lap.

Tilting his head upward, Hacorie saw the Rat Skate Ark get skewered by the Zot spell. It soon disappeared into oblivion leaving only a treasure box behind. Clutching his chest, Hacorie slowly limped toward the box. Firmly pressing his hand against the lock, the box opened to reveal a Cinnamon. Hacorie grabbed the Cinnamon and left he field once he saw what was inside. Reaching the Root Town, the blue cloaked Warrior noticed the Cinnamon was transported to his item’s list. Hacorie received another Flashmail from the event admin as soon as he logged into the field. "Why don't they stop?" He questioned thinking of ways the Admins could make event subjects known better than just flashmailing.

Flashmail
To: Hacorie
From: Admin.

Go to an armory in any Root Town. Each has a kitchen. Use the kitchen to make the applesauce. Drop the final project off at the Pawn Shop to be judged. Remember to include your name on a card or something so they know it is yours.

~admin~

End Flashmail

Entering the Armory in the Root Town he was in, Hacorie bolted toward the kitchen pushing the NPC out of his way. “Sorry, I am in a hurry.” He said sincerely as the NPC stepped back trying to regain its balance.

In the kitchen there was an assortment of tools, each with its own purpose. With only about an hour to go, Hacorie began to feel like he was in a cooking contest. He took a pot from his inventory and started to feel it up with water from the sink. A minute later, once the water reached about 4/5 the way up the pot, Hacorie took it over to an eye on the stove and put it on it. Turning on the eye, Hacorie waited for the water to start to boil. While that was happening, he went back to the sink and placed all of his inventory on the counter.

He next took the apple and ran it under cold water while rubbing his hands gently across the surface to make sure it was clean. He then quickly started to chop the apple into slices while throwing out the core when he got to it. Now that the apple was sliced, Hacorie walked over toward the water and noticed it was now boiling “Just in time,” He said as he placed the apple sliced in the water while also turning the heat of the eye down to half. Looking at all the water in the pot, Hacorie got a Ball Jar and started scooping water out while the apples were getting soft in the pot. Once there was a good ratio of water to apples, Hacorie took his wooden spoon and started to mash up all the apples.

Once everything in the pot was mushy, Hacorie took the ‘sauce’ and poured it into his second pot. Taking out the cinnamon, Hacorie shook it all over the sauce and stirred up the sauce for a nice mixture of cinnamon all around. Plus, it was needed since the starting apple was about the size of grunty food. Wasting no time, Hacorie cleaned out the first pot at the sink and then filled it back up with water. He also turned the eye of where the second pot was down to simmer so the applesauce would remain hot. While waiting for the water to start to boil again, Hacorie took all the lids off his jars and put the jars and lids into the gigantic pot.

Once the water began to boil and boiled for about a minute, Hacorie took the lid lifter and lifted the lids out of the pot and put them on the counter. He then used the Jar Grabber to lift the jars out of the pot. He did the same thing with them as he did with the lids. Making sure no time went to waste, Hacorie grabbed the funnel and placed it atop one of the jars. Grabbing the plastic handles of the jar with applesauce in it, Hacorie poured the sauce into the jar. He repeated that step 11 more times until each jar was full. Once each was done, Hacorie grabbed the now cool lids and screwed them on the tops of each jar.

“Done!” Hacorie yelled as he turned the oven off and placed everything back in his inventory. Three golden rings enveloped his body as he was transported back to Mac Anu. Walking in a back alley, Hacorie took a short cut to the Pawn Shop. Once he walked inside he sighed in thanks as he set the twelve jars on the counter and took out a sheet of paper from his notepad he got from Pendant a long time ago.

Entry Character: Hacorie

Sighing in relief that it was now over, Hacorie walked out of the store hoping his applesauce would win.

(OOC: Finally done!)

"C'mon!" Ashura cried out in anger as he took another deep breath. He had traveled across the entire field, basically covered every squae-inch of this digital domain, and he had yet to run into a single monster. Not only that, but it seemed that any monsters that he had the chance to run had fled at once, leaving him to growl in pure frustration.

'The event is ending in a few hours! I have to hurry!'

A rustling behind him alerted the PC to a presence, but before he could properly identify it, Ashura dived out of the way, not taking any chances in this hell hole.

'And we have a winner!'

Rolling on the ground, Ashura saw the monsters name pop up with its level and new he had his opponent. A Level 29 Hell Hound, the fire arching from around its neck emerald green. With his current level of eight, he was automatically written off as doomed. One hit could easily force his life into the negatives, and nobody wanted that.

"Rue Zot!" The ice ascension spell struck, the thick daggers penetrating the flesh of the dog. However, the massive internal heat of the canine melted away all of the ice before it could puncture any organs. Instantly, the fire on the Hell Hound shifted to a dark blue, a visual aid to its fury. As it opened its mouth, a large puff of fire was emitted, striking the ground and spreading slightly, reaching Ashura's boots.

'That attack did nothing against it...Got to find the right combo...'

As his thoughts tried to devise the perfect strategy, the Hell Hound made its move. It lowered its head and charged in a mad dash, the target narrowly avoiding being smashed. As the monster passed, Ashura launched a trio of spells, one after another.

"Rue Kruz! Rue Kruz! Crack Beat!"

Massive chunks of ice momentarily hovered in mid-air before smashing into the flesh with tremendous force, the spell receiving twice as much of support from being casted twice. He followed up with a powerful overhead smash that left the Hell Hound reeling in pain, barely enough to take away half of its life.

"Damn you!" he cursed, breathing hard. He had exhausted all of his SP in that combo, and he had no time to wait for it to replenish naturally. As the Hound shook off its daze, Ashura placed a small distance between himself and the monster. From within his pack, he fished out small bottles marked with the symbols for the Warriors Blood, Knights Blood, Warriors Bane, Wizards Blood, and a small scroll for the Speed Charm. As the effects of the additives filled him, the Hell Hound realized that the human was no longer near him as the tingling sensation that resulted from the Bane charm alerted it to the drop in strength.

His SP bar had regained enough points for two attacks, but he did not use any magic just yet. He only had one shot at this, and he needed to make it good. Verting his blade, Ashura dashed forward, his cloak billowing out behind his from the extra speed he was exhibiting. As he neared, the Hound gave a short lunge and struck, his life almost instantly depleted but spared due to the Warriors Bane.

'Now!

As his SP bar became fully replenished, he launched his attack, hoping that it was enough to finish the job.

"Rue Slash! Rue Kruz!"

The steel of his sword held a brilliant blue aura as his attack began to charge. Luckily, he did not have to wait long as the small chunks of ice hovered before smashing as they did before. His sword skill was ready, and he was not going to waste it. He quickdrawed his sword and made the first diagonal slash, the Hound crying in pain as the onslaught of its elemental weakness began to take its toll. Using his momentum, Ashura spun and delivered the second slash, a faint blue 'X' seen on the animal. Its legs wobbled before it collapsed onto the ground, critically wounded, the blood oozing from the wounds.

"Still not dead?!" Ashura gaped, his own breathing shallow and harsh. He smiled cruelly as he switched swords once again and brought out his Rondo. Walking over, he placed the steel against the head and concentrated.

"Revolver!"

The skill was overkill, striking the beast numerous times even as it gave its soul up and disappeared, leaving behind the chest that Ashura had arrived to get. He said nothing as he opened and took the Cinnamon. As an after thought, he collected a small ember and placed it in his pack inside one of the Ball Jars, grimacing in pain as the heat was felt and leaving the field as soon as he was positive that he had nothing else to do here.

****************************************************************************************************


"Out of my way!" Ashura cursed as he arrived into the Mac Anu Root Town. Denying himself the pleasure of exploring the Sigma Server, he departed and arrived here, where there seemed to be a greater number of players exploring the safe haven.

'The instructions said whatever I needed was going to be located in the Armory!'

And that was the truth as he saw more players stationed around the Shop, curses and commands giving away that others were hard at work with their creations. Pushing through a tight squeeze, Ashura found himself at a empty work station, promptly claiming it as his own.

"Time to make Applesauce!" cried Ashura, laying out his ingredients in front of his body. Grabbing and tossing the apple into the air, he diced it rapidly with his sword, striking it top-to-bottom, left-to-right, and diagonally on both sides. The 16 pieces fell to the cutting board, in which he split them in two to make 32 pieces.

The Ball Jar that he placed the ember from the field in seemed ready to wither from the heat, so he extraced and put the ember under the pot holder, giving him the fire that he needed.

Grabbing a small dish with a pedestal sitting nearby, Ashura placed and grinded the Cinnamon into a fine powder before he turned and grabbed another bowel/pedestal combo and did the same for the apples. What resulted from the second attempt was a sticky pulp which he poured into the warm pot. Instantly, his work space was filled with the aroma of freshness. As the sauce warmed, the warrior-turned-cook used the Funnel to scatter the crushed Cinnamon, using the Large Spoon to stir rapidly until everything was slightly gooey.

"Rue Kruz!" As the ice chunks appeared in the sky, Ashura moved the pot and directed a single chunk to go into the sauce to chill it rapidly. Even as he watched, the sauce grew more solid and reached his desired state.

"Done!"

His masterpiece was completed, and after scooping out a large amount into the container that was to be submitted in the Pawn Shop, he scrawled his name and disappeared, content with what he wrote.

'Ashura's Special Sauce'

Phoenix arrived at Baking Desperate Frying Pot in the Sigma Server after stopping over Dun Loireag in Theta and Fort Ouph in Sigma. He sees a field filled with Chaos Gates with lots of volcanoes and magma within the immediate area. So this is what hell feels and looks like… After finishing his thought, he received another flashmail.

To: Phoenix
From: CC Corp

Welcome to the final field for the Applesauce Event. As you may have noticed, there are many Chaos Gates in the field. These gates contained every fire monster in the game. With each monster killed, they will drop a treasure chest containing the final ingredient which is cinnamon but there’s a catch. The cinnamon quality depends on the ratio between levels of the monster and you. The higher the ratio between you two, the better the cinnamon will be for you.

Once obtaining the cinnamon, proceed to any Armory to make your applesauce creation. They are equipped with kitchens with the necessary tools to make the applesauce. After you finished with your creation, proceed to the Pawn Shop to drop it off and let it be judged.

Thank you for your involvement in this special event by CC Corp. Please consider doing other special events in the future.

End Flashmail

After reading the flashmail, Phoenix need to find a monster that would get him a good ratio between levels but not kill him in the process. He had no way to find what Chaos Gate would produce the desired monster but he decided to walk to the nearest gate he could find. He saw other players fighting various fire monsters which they were having various difficulties fighting against. Before activating the Chaos Gate, Phoenix switched to his 6 Sided Sword as it contained the power of Rue Slash which he will need to beat the upcoming fire monster. He activated the gate to find that he encountered a fire monster that was double the level that he was.

The monster was very tall with very long arms and huge hands. It had a weird diamond shaped head-dress along with a brown dress. Phoenix knew that he had to attack now before the monster could attack him. He jumped towards the monster with his sword pointing at its midsection and called out the attack of Rue Slash. The sword transformed into a blade of ice which pierced the monster’s skin. The monster decided to smash Phoenix with its huge hands but he used the hilt of the sword as a ledge to jump to the monster’s head. “RUE KRUZ!” The target of the spell was the monster’s head as sharp icicles form around it waiting to plunge into its face. The icicles caused great pain to the monster as it burrowed deep into its face. The monster’s hands were trying to remove the icicles from its face as Phoenix removed his sword from the monster’s midsection.

Before Phoenix could attack the monster, he noticed a huge meteor falling from the sky. He knew it was the monster’s attack spell, RaVak Don which the level 3 version of Vak Don. He quickly ran away from the monster and the meteor before he was caught up in the explosion of the spell. The meteor impacted near the monster which only caused minor damage to the monster but Phoenix caught some of the blast which injured him slightly and caused him to fall to the ground.

Phoenix got up almost immediately but he lost sight of the monster from the smoke of the impact. Suddenly, he was trapped within the grip of one of the monster’s huge hands. He felt the life slowly draining away as the monster squeezing his body. “RUE KRUZ!” The icicles impacted on the monster’s huge hand causing it scream in pain while releasing Phoenix from its grip. Phoenix quickly needed to defeat the Dejected before it could cast another RaVak Don on him. “RUE SLASH!” Phoenix cut off on one of the huge hands of the monster using the icy blade. Then he decided to cut the monster down to size by cutting off its legs. While the monster was screaming over the loss its hand, Phoenix cut through the dress and managed to cut its legs by using another Rue Slash.

The monster fell to the ground very hard but Phoenix had a lot of hacking and slashing to deplete the remaining 2000 hit points. He began to stab at various parts of the body with the Matoi since he wanted to drain whatever skill points the Dejected monster had. Slowly but surely, Phoenix was making progress against the monster but it decided to fire off another RaVak Don spell towards itself. Phoenix fired off a triple set of Rue Kruz spells at the huge meteor. He managed to damage the meteor enough that it would only caused minor damage to him. After a few more stabs to the monster’s head, the monster disappeared from the field and Phoenix fell to the ground after doing all that work on that monster.

After a minute of resting, Phoenix discovered a chest left by the Dejected monster and opened it. He received a bag of cinnamon of a level ratio 2 to 1 from the level difference and left the field a second later. He decided to head back to Mac Anu to finish the event. Phoenix entered the local Armory and asked to use its kitchen. He began to cut up his Apple of Wisdom into 8 pieces so he could make two batches of applesauce: one for him and the other for the contest. He placed the 4 pieces of apple into the two pots and began to mash the apples inside. After determining the apple pieces were smashed enough, he started up the oven and waited for it to get to the right temperature. While waiting for the oven to heat up, Phoenix added cinnamon to both pots until it became a nice beautiful golden brown. After the oven was done heating up, he placed both pots into the oven and began to open the ball jars with the lid lifter. After five minutes being in the oven, Phoenix removed the pots from the oven with the jar grabber. He began to pour applesauce into the ball jars with the jar funnel from one of the pots and kept the other pot to eat now.

Before heading out to the pawn shop, Phoenix decided to eat the other pot of applesauce on one of the rooftops in Mac Anu. He tried to eat the applesauce but he couldn’t figure out the taste for some unknown reason all another but maybe it can come back to him later. He walked off the roof and headed to the Pawn Shop to see a penguin working the counter. Oh yeah, CC Corp has really lost it as they have a penguin working the shop. Phoenix gave the penguin his entry into the Applesauce Event which he called Pure Wisdom Applesauce and waited for the results while trying to figure out what the applesauce tasted.

(OOC: It's the end. I decided that I didn't want to give hints about the taste of the Applesauce so I left it open-ended.)

A giant Teddy Bear tasted each bowl of applesauce. It wasn't quite as bad as she had expected. Wisdom...Curative...and many other unique flavors. Perhaps a new type of shop should be added to each of the Root Towns. After looking over her checklist and thinking it over carefully...

"Okay everybody! I've decided on the winner! Placing first...Jenovra- T.H.E. Applesauce'. In second place...Curative Applesauce! Tied for third...Pure Wisdom Applesauce and Hacorie Applesauce! I hope you've all had a great Applesauce Day, this is Teddy, signing off!"

*****

Jenovra +Rashinear
Nighthand +Permafrost
Hacorie +Ice Strike
Phoenix +Chaos Spell
Ashura +Dark Night
Bigvisc +Health Drink
Dien +Speed Charm
Kuishen +Antidote