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The death of WeeMarcusFromOz ?


Well-Known Member
Attempting to prop himself up against the stone wall, WeeMarcusFromOz realised that he was near his end.
The smoke, the mist and the ember had combined into a cloud that enveloped him.

He didn't remember clearly what happened, they had entered the dungeon, like many times before, but this felt different.
The creatures were so strong, so in control, an arrow from one broke his leg, it would not recover.

His armour now fully broken, his life began to flash in front of his eyes.

He looked at his emberfly essence stud earring and thought of recent times in the highland hills.
His tracker hide helm, where did that come from again, his memory was fading fast.
The warrior chief bearskin spaulder and the darkwater necklace were a blur, a vague recollection of hunting in the meadowlands, bears, large bears, and caves.
The Chithorn's Pauldron, memories of that spider cave with friends.
The tattered elder shirt, the quickfingered gloves, the warrior chief bearskin bracer.
The Ring of Morro, the Black Chitin belt, the Dryfoot Dustkickers.

The Brookhollow Short Sword sat by his side, as useless as all that he wore, broken beyond repair.

Yes these things were important to him, but not more so than the friends he met along the way.
The knights that sometimes joined them, the brigands, the sentinels, the duelists.

Names were escaping him, like the blood he could see running from his head, finding cracks in the floor, slowly pooling next to the ember ring.
The ember ring, the ember, the thing they all desired to understand.

In a moment of clarity he reached down and noticed the stone still glowed brightly on his tattered belt, unaffected by everything that had happened.
He stopped and thought again of his friends, of those who entered this dungeon with him, Aluna in particular, what had happened to them?
He hoped they were ok, but as things turned dark he remembered that they were all in a similar situation to his.

What would become of the treasures he stored in the city, would others use them, did they even know of them.
He remembered a chest that he shared, but others he hid away.

He coughed and saw the blood on his hands, and his vision again blurred.
It became dark everywhere, except for the orange glow of the ember ring and the ember stone on his belt.
The bloody ember.

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The day progressed, going in and out of consciousness.
At some point, the dreaming began.

Old tales came to me, visions of things never experienced but somehow known.
And then the darkness returned.

And then somehow, as all seemed lost, a vision of an old friend came back into view.
Aluna, but also Cyphervision, and Kreyank, with three friends.

Questioning whether this was a dream or if I was dead, the smirk on Aluna's face told me I was wrong.

"Get up you silly bastard" she said "we are here to save you".

And somehow all the pain washed away as the adrenalin kicked in.
Wounds were patched, a splint made for the leg, and we fought our way out of this place, one creature at a time.


I have never played an MMO before in which not only could I not reach my bag, I literally could not get out of the dungeon by myself again.
I seriously considered going Diablo hardcore with this toon and rerolling, it felt like the right thing to do after getting myself into this situation.

Thank you to these guys who saved my toon's arse today.
Somehow I'm going to pay it back.


What an experience.
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