Arrival part 1 History is a two edged sword. It is a boon to the wise, and a binding to the foolish. Here, history will be made, but my part within it has yet to be determined. We; a thousand of the finest fighters of house Varr, as well as three hundred of our best electro casters; are here in this world of strange waters with a singular goal: to rescue our people, to protect the ones we care for, to ensure our race survives the chaos… …to attain the Scepter of Ty’Eld. A foolish endeavor? Casing after wives tales? I will not lie in saying I haven’t entertained these notions. It could be an extravagant fairy tale, or the item in question could be little more than a trinket, a child’s toy. Yet, if there is a hope, even a small glint of sunlight in the blackness from the last war, then I feel it is my duty, as a lady of the house of Varr, to investigate; and, if possible, return the years lost to
The Man in Black Three more. It was a stroke of good fortune to find an able alchemist willing to help. Discovering the properties of ingredients independently was a long tedious process of trial and error. It may not have been a problem, were it not for Vincent’s curse. The blood lust of his mother had to be addressed with an alchemical combination tailored to him specifically. As far as he knew, the three potions in his pack were the only ones in existence. If his previous encounters were anything to go by, running out wasn’t an option.It was for this reason that he was in the nearby forests in the twilight hour. Ruth mentioned that the leaves of a nearby flower could be brewed, creating an effective tranquilizer. It was as good of a start as any. He thought over the discussion he had with the sandy blond elf. During their harvesting of the hydra, she had proven to possess an almost childlike inquisitiveness.
Alchemical Gold MineAlchemical Gold MineBy KillianSeraphim “Excuse me,” said a voice behind her. “Just a minute,” Ruth called back, doing her best to keep her body still. She let out a breath, keeping her eyes focused on the meticulous procedure before her. Carefully, she tilted the small vial in her weathered hand, poised above the small clay bowl of bubbling blueish liquid. One Two Three drops of red invaded the mixture, swirling downward, joining with the other ingredients into a rich purple fluid. Ruth relaxed with a sigh. She replaced the cork on the vial before setting it back on the table. Unrolling her right blue sleeve back into place, she turned towards the door out of her workshop to the main store.Her hand shot to her mouth, but not before a small scream escaped. ‘Was he there the whole time?’ The “he” had been leaning against the doorway, observing. “I’m sorry,” he stated, “I didn’t mean to startle yo