Young Writers Society

You have joined - for whatever reason - the guild Glory of the Raider, led by the oft-disliked, hot-headed swordsman Malek Kadezra. This is the story of your guild's exploits through a chapter of history that will, assuredly, never be forgotten.

You will face pirates, traitors, countless droves of immortal enemies, and gods alike. Along the way, you will learn important lessons and find out for yourself what it means to decide between power and justice, passion and compassion. You will grow in your discipline and become a warrior of legend, as glorious as the gods themselves.

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[size=200][b]Name Here[/b][/size]

I am a [b][gender][/b] [b][race][/b] who has learned the art of being a(n) [b][class][/b].

[size=150]Appearance & Habits[/size]
Your text goes here.

[size=150]Personality & Behavior[/size]
Your text goes here.

[size=150]A Brief History[/size]
Your text goes here.

[size=150]My Spellbook[/size]
1.
2.
3.

Thaumaturge (Spell-based Damage; wields Staffs)

Arcanist (Spell-based Damage; wields Grimoires)

Disciple (Spell-Based Healing; wields Wands and Focuses)

Seer (Spell-based Damage; wields a staff)

Archer (Ranged Damage; wields Bow & Arrow)

Engineer (Ranged Damage; wields guns)

Pugilist (Melee Damage; wields Fist Weapons)

Swordsman (Melee Tank; wields Sword and Shield)

Guardian (Melee Tank; wields Mace & Shield)


You are one of the following races:
Leonai

Sylphs

Redeyes

Rodere (Male) (Female)

Aviti


Table of Contents

When Malice forces invade Highmoon from the air, the Sky Admiral Luma Lunacrest hires your team to bring down their airships before Highmoon falls to their unending numbers. Can you manage killing the sorcerous captains of the airships and bringing down their fleet? More importantly, is this a suicide mission so early in your journey?

The Highmooon sky was crystalline blue. Above Elyn, birds soared. Below him, the forest canopy stretched out like a painter's canvas. Lighter green around him; darker green in the distance, where the proud Ancestor Trees stood; occasional splotches of browns where a plaza or offering shrine stood, devoid of vegetation. The smell of fresh grass permeated the air, and the soft songs of the Seers snaked through the trees.

Elyn watched one such clearing, where Templars were practicing their maneuvers. The sylphs flitted between the trees on their silver wings, gracefully weaving from branch to branch. Sometimes, their wings flickered and sputtered, and the sylphs fell towards a branch, grabbing hold of it and hanging from it.

Their bodies were lithe, and even when their wings failed them, they remained graceful. When Elyn had trained his Leonai, he had tried to instill in them the ways of the Highmoon Templars. Understanding the land around you to move through it with purpose and skill: truly, the Templars were Highmoon's greatest defensive force.

There were many Templars in the skies recently, many more than usual. With them marched the Guardians, the unshakable trunks of Highmoon. Runners moved from one end of the forest, and messenger birds furrowed the skies. Their relays were not out of the ordinary, but their frequency was unusual. No official communication had been given on the matter yet, nor had Elyn had any real time to think on it.

"By Shiva's holy tits, are you even listening to me, Elyn?"

Elyn blinked. He turned to face his companion. Malek was looking at him, a frown on his face.

"I'm sorry," Elyn said. "I zoned out when you said 'women are useless, they spend all their time at home but can't even decorate a guild hall properly.' What is it you were saying?"

"Seriously!" Malek huffed, indignant. "All that woman thinks about is fluff and frills. I caught her trying to install pink upholstery for the furniture. Pink! Even Ayala's pleasure houses have more dignity than that."

Elyn blushed "Jacqueline may have a tendency for pink, but she is a skilled interior designer," he said, quickly. "Her work on the Dawnleaf palace was phenomenal, and we are fortunate that she agreed to help us for so little."

"That may be true," Malek replied, "but she still needs supervision, or we may find our banner covered by rabbits. Come on down with me, who knows what she's getting up to."

"Oh, but the Templars haven't finished their drills. I'd much rather watch them finish."

"Those twigs?" Malek scoffed. "They don't know anything about combat."

Elyn stamped his foot. "You are not to call them tw -- that!" he exclaimed. "Their connection to the spirits is supreme. They know things you or I couldn't even dream of."

"Like where to find sylph that knows how furnish a building decently? If so, sign me up."

"You Redeyes have no sense of taste."

"That's just hurtful."

Elyn rolled his eyes. "Fine then, let's go down and take a look."

The two stepped away from the veranda and into the top floor of the treehouse. It was bare. The decorators still had work to do on the floor below. They moved down the spiral staircase to the room designated as Guild meeting room.

Boxes and stacks of furniture were piled haphazardly by the walls of the circular room. The windows were still nothing more than slits in the walls. A table stood in the center of the room. On it, a sign that spelled out 'Glory of the Raider'. Malek hadn't decided where to hang it from yet. His idea of the words carved above the entrance had been shot down.

There was nobody else in the room.

"Phew." Malek exhaled in relief. "I don't see the pink hellbeast anywhere."

"Jacqueline went out for her lunch break," a voice called from the entrance floor below. "She said she'd be back later."

"Wow, these walls are really thin," Malek said, kicking the floor.

"And your skull is incredibly thick," Elyn replied. "Come with me. We have people to meet."

Elyn began to walk down the stairs.

"Who?" Malek asked, following.

"Two Leonai I knew when I was serving in the jungle. An archer by the name of Gafna and a thaumaturge called Diana, whom I worked with personally. They expressed interest in joining our Guild."

"Ooh, cat-ladies."

"...Yes. That is accurate. Try to behave. Two is not an impressive Guild number, and I fear it will stay so if you keep scaring all potential applicants away."

"You know," invoked one of the cat girls as she poked Malek's left horn, "I've never gotten so close to a dragon before."

Malek huffed and scanned her figure - though clad in a simple, flat robe - for curves and dimensions presentable only by the finest lady parts.

He squatted in the clearing where they'd met up with the girls and crossed his arms, closed his eyes. "From what I can tell, you're undergeared, your hair is a weird color for a cat, and you smell like the Elderwood." He nodded. "So I have to admit you to phase two of your application."

Elyn raised an eyebrow from his distant spot in the clearing. "Please tell me you're not pulling this out of your ar--"

"Say no more, Ellie! I must test these two feline fatales in a two-on-one match." He nodded at his own decision. "It's only fair."

"And what outcome do you expect from outnumbered combat, Malek? Surely you have more sense than to think...no, forgive me. I think too highly of you." He smirked and took a seat by a nearby tree. "Carry on."

Malek stood and stretched out his arms and legs, then drew his twin scimitars. "Since this isn't a fight to the death, we will judge this match by the first, second, and third to fall to the ground." He cut his eyes at the archer. "Gas...ton?"

"Gafna," remarked Elyn.

"Garlond, you will, of course, aim for disabling areas of the body instead of vital organs."

The archer rolled her eyes and drew an arrow instantly, firing it into the high branches of the tree above Malek. In a matter of seconds, down fell a single acorn, wedged around the blade of her arrow. "Do you take issue with my acorn?"

Malek raised his eyebrows and thought of the implications of the broken nut. "...no issue at all, Garlond." He took a stance and swallowed a knot in his throat. "Let the battle begin!"

Diana clutched her chest in surprise. "We're starting n-now?!"

"Yes! Come at me!"

"I'll...I'll come at you!" She drew her staff and charged Malek, whispering absolute gibberish under her breath. In an instant, a sphere of concentrated wind manifested under Malek's chest, sending him soaring back, abreast, against Elyn's tree. The Sylph caught him, cradling his body in his lap as a mother would.

"Point to Diana."

Malek made a sour face. "Whose side are you on?!"

Elyn grinned. "I'm on the side clever enough to sneak a wind bomb beneath your guard." He dropped Malek to the ground with a roll of his eyes. "Honestly, your magic defense is so miserably low." He clicked his teeth. "Have you considered training with the Templars?"

Malek groaned. "If you say Templar one more time, I'll have Acorn split your beautiful jaw in half."

Elyn stood, bowing to the ladies. "My sincerest congratulations, ladies. I believe you have passed this miserably simple trial. While it may not say much about our Guild's combat prowess, Malek says nothing about most things, so don't be disheartened."

Malek slowly ambled to his feet and brushed off his armor. "Let me just find the set of Linkpearls I dropped in my bag earlier..." He patted down his body in search of the bag, but came up empty.

"It is quite unwise to leave precious material lying around, Redeye."

Everyone turned to the back of the clearing.

By the tree stood a broad-shouldered Sylph with camouflage leather armor covering most of his body, daggers at his shins. In his hand was Malek's bag, linkpearls glowing pink inside.

"Carteneau!" Malek sheathed his scimitars. "The general said you were away on a mission to the Gobmarsh."

"Twas a small invasion force from the badlands. A few dozen Kobolds couldn't keep me from coming home for a nice, warm dinner."

At the most inopportune moment, Malek's stomach let out a fierce growl. It brought back to mind the fact that he hadn't eaten in a day or two. All four hundred of his precious Sol - a life's savings - on founding the damned guild and building the house.

Carteneau picked up on this instantly and nodded. "I'll propose this to you: take your guildmates into the Elderwood, down the mountain where the Solarwind river splits. In that gully will be Ravenous Riverwings. They're birds who are hatched underwater. Lungs and gills - remarkable creatures. And the best part about them is that their breasts and wings make for delicious smoked meat." He grinned. "Bring me..." He counted their heads and accounted for himself and his wife. "Twenty cuts of meat from the Riverwings." He began to leave the clearing before turning back and nodding at the two cat ladies behind Elyn and Malek. "Very nice recruits you have. That archer looks like she could snatch a Malice fang from the Sundamned barbarian and fletch it into a nifty arrow." He laughed. "Life goals, right?"

Garlond stuck her chest out and grinned. "A sharp eye is worth more than Sol, I say."

Diana nodded. "Though I'm sure with enough money, I could find a man to snatch your sharp eye and bring it to me."

Garlond crossed her arms and sniffed the air as she turned her head. "That's no way to talk to a guildmate!"

Malek, having retrieved his bag from Carteneau, watched them with a grin. "We should get on our way. It'll be an hour before we reach the gully on foot. But a hot meal prepared by Jaqueline is worth it!"

Elyn, uncharacteristically, agreed. "You two will understand the meaning of love once you taste her food."

Malek nodded. "She may be a bit obsessed with frills and colors mainly found on hatchling Aviti, but she can cook with the best of them."

Diana clutched her stomach. "You're making me starve here."

Malek winked. "Incentive."

As they embarked on their journey, Elyn lingered in the clearing, narrowing his eyes and clutching his chest. He glanced to the sky where Angara's minor moon was grazing against the prominence of the sun. "Something stirs..." He paused, glancing through the trees. "Though it may be my stomach."

At a dip in the hill, Diana thought they had reached the river. No, it was another gully that she had to watch her less feline companions struggle across. She glanced at Gafna and rolled her eyes. Gafna grinned and leapt over the gully in a single whooshing bound. Diana followed a moment later, her strong fingernails clinging to the dirt on the other side to absorb her momentum. Sometimes she wished the rest of her body was as feline as her face. It would make such practical matters of vaulting dips in the landscape so much simpler.

She shook the dirt out from under her fingernails and giggled as first Elyn then Malek tip-toed through the mud in an attempt not to let their boots get sucked in. She glanced at her own bare feet. She had tried shoes once, but her toenails kept breaking, and that wasn't much use to anyone.

"Come on, you primates." Gafna chuckled.

When the three primates - such primates! - had crossed, they raised themselves to full height and almost as one crossed their arms.

"Let's just see how you cats fare in the river," Elyn muttered, but the light in his eyes showed he could imagine his own struggle through their eyes.

They reached the gully the river actually was in not too long later, but it was long enough for Diana's stomach to start grumbling. The sound was the first thing to reach them. It tinkled like the bell on the door of a small shop and Diana was convinced she could hear the late, low sunlight glinting off it.

It appeared she was right. The light that bounced back at them made her wince and she thrust one arm across her face.

"So you're vampires now too, are you kitties?" Malek giggled.

Diana rolled her eyes again and shielded her eyes as she turned back towards the river.

"So where are these fish birds?" she asked.

"They're probably hiding under the shore's overhang," Elyn suggested, "Maybe one of you two could try hooking it on your claw."

"I do not have claws!" Diana muttered, then added though not by choice.

"Fine," said Elyn, "On your long, delicate fingernails."

Diana sighed. "Fine."

She gestured to Gafna and the two Leonai moved forward toward the river's grassy bank. Diana knelt forward on the edge and was surprised to discover hard rock beneath her knee rather than the soft mud she'd been expecting. She peered over the edge. The overhang was of steep sloping rock, rings of past water levels marked along its length.

With her ear to the ground, she listened. Yes, there were the bubbles of fish, mixed with the flapping of ... a chaffinch? She shook her head and thrust a long fingernail at where the sound was coming from.

Crunch!

Diana howled and yanked her fingernail back - except it was just a finger now. The nail was all but gone. She cradled her finger and pressed it to her lips to stop the bleeding. Gafna yanked her own hand out the water and shot a glance at Elyn.

"If you know so much about Leonai," she hissed, "You should know not to risk a fingernail."

"Hey, you agreed!" he replied.

"I was hungry!" Diana snapped. She took a deep breath and looked at Malek. "You wanna give it a shot."

The look on his face indicated that he most certainly did not, but that he also definitely would. He stepped forward to the edge, cracked his knuckles, and sat down on the rock.

"Why did you push me over?" Malek yelled as Gafna, smirking, looked over. She didn't mean to bump into him as she practiced her archery. Surely he deserved it, though, being hot headed and annoying. Diana walked over, her finger still in her mouth as she looked, grinning then returning to a rock.

"I can't stay down here forever. Help me outta here!" Gafna grinned, sitting on a rock and looking over the edge. She played with one of her arrows while Malek slammed a fist into the shallow water, splashing dark water up over the rocks.

"You didn't say please, Malek," Gafna pointed out.
"Why should I say please?! You shoved me! Shoving is against...a policy! I'll figure out which one later, but it's definitely against it!!"
"Well, it would be polite to do so."

Malek rolled his eyes, waddling over to the rock wall and climbing. He reached up to a rock, testing it to see if it was safe to climb it. Gafna looked over, smirking and switching to face the edge.
"I wouldn't test that rock if I were you, Malek," she called down. Malek looked up grimly and started climbing. Gafna sighed shaking her head, returning to her arrow and picking the quills.

Few minutes later, Gafna felt the ground shaking. She looked at the a spot between some trees, hoping to see a big beast - but only a bunny came out.
Only a bunny? she thought before a giant tree fell on the bunny. Diana and Elyn rushed over, while Malek was nearing the top of the gully.

The beast came out from the trees, scaly with five tails. It let out a scream, the birds in the trees scattered or fell to the ground while Gafna, Elyn and Diana made their way towards it. It looked blind, with a piece of skin covering it's eyes as it aimlessly made it's way somewhere.
"What is that?" yelled Diana, as she got into her battle stance.
"That, my friends, is the Jawd'ea," Malek stated before grinning. "And we are going to fight it."

Elyn glanced behind him at the river, and then at the Jawd'ea. Diana had probably provoked the Riverwings with her fingernail stunt, and now this. It had probably sensed water. Jawd'ea were blind, but made up for that with ferocity.

They could possibly sneak away, maybe even let the beast deal with the Riverwings and sneak away. This could not even be the worst case scenario, actually. A careful tactician could get out of any situation with calm and nerves of steel.

"LET'S GO!"

Malek drew his sword and charged the Jawd'ea. Elyn groaned. Malek did not deserve the breath he was exhaling so vigorously.

Gafna notched an arrow, grinning confidently. Diana summoned ice.

Well, Elyn thought. The Jawd'ea aren't tactical thinkers either.

Malek slashed at its face. Black blood squirted from the wound. The beast roared and charged him, throwing the Redeye back. Gafna's arrow pierced where its eye would have been. Diana's ice cut into its flesh.

The Jawd'ea roared louder. It raised its tails and shook. A rain of spikes flew towards the Leonai.

Elyn surged forward, drawing his shield to protect them. The spikes thunked into his shield. Those would make a dent.

"Keep casting your magic," Elyn told the wide-eyed Leonai. "I will replenish your mana when necessary. Keep attacking it from the front. I have a plan."

They nodded and returned to attacking it.

"Malek!" Elyn called out. "The Leonai will attack it from the front. It has your scent. Draw it to the river."

"Gotcha!" Malek turned back to the Jawd'ea. "Hey, spikeass! Come get me!" He positioned himself in front of Elyn and waved his hands for good measure. The Leonai punctuated his exclamations with showers of pain.

Bleeding and furious, the Jawd'ea charged at Malek. Malek rolled to the side. The Jawd'ea continued forward blindly.

Elyn waited until he could see the pockmarks on its face, then rolled to the side, metal clanking. "Move!" He yelled to the Leonai.

They bolted. Diana threw ice at it for good measure. The Jawd'ea tried to alter its course, but its claws slipped on the river rock, and it fell into the water.

"That functioned," Elyn said, dusting his hands off.

"You crazy son of a bitch," Gafna said.

"I prefer the term tactician."

"Uh, guys..." Diana began.


The water exploded. The Jawd'ea soared into the sky, as if on wings. It then crashed back down on the ground. There was a horrifying gash all across its belly. It was missing most of its inner organs.

After it, dripping water and blood, came the Ravenous Riverwings. They were dark colored, and scaly. They had claws and fangs and spiked wings and many many ways to slice an adventurer up.

"Fish people!" Malek exclaimed. "It's dinnertime."

"Please call them fish birds," Elyn said. "I dislike the idea of eating people"

"Fish birds, fish people." The Redeye shrugged dismissively. "It's all fish oil anyway."

Malek rolled away as a giant claw came down overhead. Coughing dirt, he ambled to his feet and pressed his teeth together. "Great tacticianing, Tactic...us." He growled and dove to the side as the Jawd'ea came at him again. Then he juked to the side, swinging his sabre to cut down one of the dozen scaley birds darting at his body.

"It was worth a shot!" called Elyn, who charged through a cloud of birds with his tower shield, crushing them into the rocks.

Malek swung a scimitar into the wrist of the beast, losing his grip on it as the monster jerked its limb away with a roar. "Damn it," he spat, "that was one of my favorite swords."

Elyn slammed his shield into the ground and sighed. "Will you just slice the throat and be done with it?"

Malek crossed his arms like a child as three darts of ice and an acorn-laden arrow flew into the Jawd'ea behind him. "Maybe I would if someone hadn't based his entire plan on the assumption that I'd dodge a giant cat in time to live."

Elyn raised a hand to expel a soft purple light that encased Diana. "You always dodge! It's the one maneuver I'd dub you an expert in managing."

The beast swung back around towards Malek. He jumped, grabbed his long-lost sword, and wrenched it out of the bone, spraying blood over Elyn's shield.

The sylph arched a brow. "I'd call that tasteless and rude."

Malek shrugged and ducked, dodging the cat's swipe for his skull. Then he span on the ground and lunged upward, into the neck of the cat.

Ice and arrows stopped flying. Elyn's restorative light died down. Malek sunk out of the bloody, steaming throat of the Jawd'ea and sheathed his swords. He reeked of rancid blood. On his armor, his arms, face. Everything.

Across the clearing, Elyn sat, cracking the wings off of the Riverwings to get to the succulent breast flesh.

"How many do we have, total?"

"I count only nineteen," murmured Diana, who was crouched over Elyn's shoulder.

Gafna was bent over the ledge, peering into the nest. "There seem to be no remaining birdies in here." A sigh. "Which is a real shame, too, because I've heard rumors that they only nest in even-numbered colonies."

Malek raised an eyebrow, and there was a bit of silence between them. Then came a soft caw, muffled behind Malek. They all turned their attention back to the Jawd'ea and watched as a tiny bird fluttered out of the cat's throat.

"That's one for the lorebooks," mused Elyn. "A final meal that outlived its consumer. How poetic!"

Malek side-eyed him and grabbed the bird by the neck, snapping it to the left. The cawing immediately stopped.

Diana and Gafna looked on with shocked, agape mouths. Elyn continued snapping wings apart.

Malek tossed down the dead bird and began to remove his armor on his way to the river. Diana covered her eyes, and then covered Gafna's as she watched on with wry curiosity.

"Oh." Malek stopped with his legguards halfway down his thighs. "I should explain." He pulled them back up and turned to the ladies, hands on his hips. "I'm going to wash in the river, see -" he paused, sniffing his armpit. "Because Jaquelline will not accept unclean guests." As he turned back to the river, continuing his strip behind the rocks, Gafna slowly raised her own arm to sniff.

Elyn clapped his hands together to pat off the excess blood and feathers before pointing the ladies towards the other end of the gully. "If you value your privacy, by all means. You'll excuse Malek? He's not very accustomed to treating ladies like...ladies." He smiled softly before placing down his shield full of breast meat, then followed Malek's path to the river.

On the bank, hands unclasping the belts on his chestguard, he watched the sky once more with a reverent gaze. "There is certainly something stirring."

There was an enormous splash in the water as Malek plunged up from the depths to catch his breath. Jawd'ea blood washed away downstream into the gully. "What was that, Ellie? I couldn't hear you over the sound of high society accepting a dragon."

Elyn placed his chest mail on the bank and shook his head. "It's nothing, Malek." A pause. "I mean it's not nothing, but..." He shook his head again. "It's a foreboding sense I cannot shake."

Malek sat on the shore by the discarded chestguard and crossed his arms over his chest, shivering. "I get that kind of feeling whenever I'm hungry or cold. I have it right now. Twice! Doubled-down bad feels."

"Right," agreed Elyn. "I'm sure that's all I'm feeling. Hunger. Distrust of being fed."

"The foreboding sense of never eating again. The Redeyes have a word for that, you know."

The sylph looked back at Malek curiously as he stepped into the cold waters, wading in until he was up to his chest in rushing blue.

"It loosely translates to The Infant Sense in Sylvan."

"That's not entirely off the mark, actually."

"Most Redeye proverbs toe that line."

Elyn smiled before dipping below the surface of the water, coming back up breathless and hissing in pain. He clutched the back of his neck and returned his hand with rivulets of blood carving a path down his palm.

"Ah," called Malek, standing up. "I have some leftover Sunthistle salve in my bag from our trip to the Druid Wild." He rifled through the leather sack until he came up with a small pouch of goop. He waded back into the water and moved Elyn's hair to one side with the back of his hand, covering the gash with the gel.

Elyn shivered and closed his eyes, wading into the shallow water to dry off. "We haven't much time until Dinner at Carteneau's chateau." He fetched his clothes and left off the heavier armor for comfort, but tied up his hair in a looped ponytail. "Keep to your townclothes and we should move a bit more quickly."

Malek glanced off down the stream to rocks where the blood was drying on the surface. Then he nodded. "Right-o."

When the four had reunited in the clearing, Malek caught the glimmer of something in the snout of the Jawd'ea, picked it up, and examined it carefully.

"We're leaving, Malek. Leave the corpse alone."

"It's a spell shard," he called. The others immediately turned around.

Elyn's brow furrowed. "That's impossible. All spell shards ceased to function when Phoenix vanished."

Malek held it up and watched it glow in the twilight. "I'd recognize one anywhere. My father collected them." He shook his head. "But this one...is alive."

Elyn looked to and fro in the clearing and shook his head. "We'll show it to Carteneau when we arrive. Now let's be off!"

Malek dropped the gem into his bag and followed as the other three led out of the clearing, back up the mountain path.

Ash

Ash took a deep breath. He'd have to pray for forgiveness later, as he always had. At first it had been hard to kill. At first he had spent hours praying for forgiveness, shedding tears in the hopes that that was what it would take to amend the murder of thousands. Now it was easy. He had come to understand that no matter how much praying he did, he would not be amended, the cost of their lives would never be repaid...

Exhale. The ten men, as poorly armed as they were ( He'd caught them off guard), charged him in the dark shadows of Kardak Shaw, a shanti on the outskirts of Highmoon. Bringing his shield close to his chest, Ash spun in between the first two men, hooded cloak swirling around him, and bought his mace down on both of their heads. The men behind the two faltered for a moment. Ash prayed they would turn and run, but apparently the desperation for wealth overruled the fear of death and they began charging again. Ash bashed the first man with his shield, then slammed his mace into the other one's face, finally, he stepped into the midst of the last six and, in a swirl of fluid motion, had them all down on the floor, blood streaming from their heads. Despite himself, Ash made a quick prayer of forgiveness, then, pulling up his hood, walked away. He didn't care if authorities saw the bodies, they couldn't trace him, bounty hunters ran rampant in these parts of town. They had no witnesses, no clues, and most of all, not enough firepower.

The pub was located halfway down one of the less obscure alleyways, that was where his client was waiting. Ash entered to dim lights, shouting, and above it all an upbeat fiddle. Ash saw his client, a tall man leaning on the wall near the back of the pub. He wore dark robe with a hood covering his face, perhaps to hide from enemies? Ash didn't know, neither did he care, this payment would allow him to get out of Kardak Shaw, to finally make something of himself, to 'redeem the deaths he'd caused'. He knew It was silly, but he held onto it out of some misplaced sense of righteousness, something he had no right to feel. As he approached the man, he caught a hand signal. Trouble. Instantly, Ash spun around and slammed his mace into the man behind him. A knife clattered to the ground and instantly everyone in the room had a gun in their hand. The client, or, more increasingly likely, the conman, held out a hand.

"Either give it to me now or I'll pry it out of your dead hands."

Ash sighed quietly. He knew sooner or later this would happen, he just didn't expect it to be today.

"The map of Salem. Now!" The man's voice had an urgent ring to it, as if a whole bar of gunmen couldn't protect him. Salem was a palace about a quarter mile away from Kradek. It was really the first sign of nobility and ultimately Highmoon. Successfully robbing that place would be any bounty hunters dream, Ash himself had picked up the map by instinct after his last job, he hadn't thought about the map since then and he had even less of an idea of how the man in front of him had found out. Without a word, Ash reached into his cloak and handed over the map of Salem. The man snatched it out of his hands, then signaled his posse to leave. Ash wondered why they didn't shoot him, maybe they knew he couldn't touch them, maybe they didn't care, that map would make them all rich. In a second, Ash was alone in the bar. A million thoughts ran through his head, he needed to get some money, fast. He was in deep shit. Somebody had conned him, now they were witness to the ten men he'd killed. In one day, all he had done to keep himself afloat would crumble. He needed a safety net, a cloak, he needed. A thought popped into his head.

Bilear (my image didn't want to paste for some strange reason, so...)
Letters and arrows
Day 798
It's been nearly four weeks since my sister last sent a letter. I know I shouldn't worry about my sister, but still...
Her last letter stated that she was in Thundercrest, doing Daedalus knows what, and also stated that I should correspond with her there.
As for Nulion, he seems to have taken to leading a tribe rather well. His last letter bore the news of his fifth son being born, so that is excellent news. He still hasn't convinced me to return, though.

Bilear looked up from his journal as the tavern door opened. A band of brutes had entered, brandishing large, menacing weapons on their persons.
Their leader, a muscular yet intelligent looking man, wore Black colored armor, with the mark of a Malice mercenary combined with a blue star on his left pauldron, scanned the occupants of the taverns with his ice blue eyes. His gaze rested on Bilear for a few seconds, before he walked over to the counter where a terrified serving girl stood.
'Where is your master?" the leader asked in an charming, yet intimidating tone.
"I- I'll fe-etch him-m," the girl said, before disappearing through a curtain leading to the kitchens. A loud voice boomed in the kitchen, but when the tavernkeeper arrived a few moments later, his plump face was pale with fright.
'Can I help you gentlemen to a drink?' he asked, his booming voice soft and calm.
'I am not here for a drink, Petyr,' the leader said, 'I am here to collect my employers' payment.'
'Like I told the last Collector,' Petyr started, 'I'm having trouble getting the money with this war against the Malice forces raging on my doorstep.'
'We have given you three weeks to get the payment. You can be glad to have had this time in the first place.' The leader rose one of his hands and snapped his fingers, after which one of the brutes walked over to the door, blocking a couple of tenants trying to leave.
Bilear could sense what was coming next, but continued drinking his ale as yet another brute walked over to stand in front of the booths where the Rodere was sitting.
'I think it's time we started getting involved in the collecting of our funds,' the leader said, drawing his sword. 'What do you say boys?'
Fiendish grins cracked the bearded faces of the brutes as they all drew their weapons. A shriek came from the other side of the tavern as one of them started threatening a Sylph woman.
'C'mon, sweet heart,' the brute said, poking his axe at her, 'Hand over that precious jewelry of yours.'
The other brutes also started intimidating some of the other tenants, while their leader's pale blue eyes watched over the proceedings.
An rather bulky brute made his way over to where Bilear was still drinking his ale seemingly nonchalantly.
'You, rodent!' the brute's barely comprehendible voice rang, 'Start placing your money on the table. Now!'
Bilear didn't even look up, and continued drinking.
'Are you deaf?! Your money!' The brute was standing beside the table now. 'Last warning!'
But before he could swing his sword, Bilear's hand shot out, throwing the fork he had eaten with at one of the brute's eyes. The man let out a howl if pain, and stumbled back as the Rodere threw the mug at his face.
Bilear had an arrow ready in his bow (which had hung on the wall of the booth in which he sat), and shot the brute who had pestered the Sylph. Yet another fell before the first brute stood up.
'No one messes with me!' he bellowed as his sword came rushing down at Bilear.
The Rodere easily rolled out of the way, grabbing his walking staff as he did so. This he brought up and hit the brute's chest, making him roar of anger.
He swung his sword yet again, but aimed too high (not accustomed to fighting Rodere) and hit a pillar instead. This gave Bilear time to grab behind him at the hearth, from which he pulled a red hot poker.
The brute parried his first two blows, but Bilear landed a flaming blow on the brute's right leg. He let out another roar, and grabbed out to choke Bilear. Once again he jumped out of the way, turning as he did so, and landing a blow on the brute's head.
A crossbow bolt alerted Bilear of another bandit. He was already reloading as the Rodere nocked an arrow in his bow. He loosed the arrow, but instead of shooting at the crossbowman, he shot the rope holding up the chandelier.
As the chandelier fell on the crossbowman, a slow, mocking clap started from the counter. There the leader stood, an evil smile on his face.
'Well done,' he said, 'You seem to be quite a fighter, for a rat. Come here so that I can get a new rug.'
But, the leader just pointed his sword at Bilear, before he realized he was in danger. Petyr, the tavernkeeper, had fetched a meat cleaver from the kitchen, and the serving girl had fetched a small hunting bow.
'My employers shan't be pleased to hear about this,' the leader said, scanning everyone present, 'You will all regret this!'
And with that, he muttered an incantation, making him and his men vanish in a cloud of black dust.
Bilear rushed over to the corner were the traumatized woman in pink sat.
'Are you alright?' he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.
'Yes, yes, I'm fine,' she said, 'Just a little rattled, that's all.'
'Do you require any assistance?'
'Well, you could always help me reach the carpenter. I am working on a project, and need some wood.'
Bilear helped the woman up, and after paying for his meal and for the damage he caused, he and the woman set off.
'You said you were working on a project?' Bilear asked as they walked down a road, the trees offering shade.
'Yes. I am an interior designer,' the woman said, 'Might I ask your name, dear sir?'
'I am Bilear. And yourself?'
'My name is Jacqueline. Pleased to make your acquaintance.'
And so begins our hero's quest...

http://i.imgur.com/zQZYKoU.png (Picture thingy is broken )

Rogel

Rogel Arigas strolled down a mountain path. The sky was cloudy and a little drizzle had begun. That grass was green up here, a deep, vibrant green, and here and there pine trees stood against the slight gusts that tickled the flowers as they opened up to catch the elusive sun.

He was headed to Kromoranth, a small town said to house agents of GotR. The guild had intrigued Rogel. Their had a reputation of being stiff but fair, Rogel had liked the sound of that. Gold and glory was one thing but being in the company of friends was another. Seeing as he had left all his friends back in Ul Drak, Rogel was in need of more.

And so he walked. Down the dirt path.

Noon found him hiking the foothills. The setting sun outlined his destination.

As he walked, Rogel spied an old barn hidden in the trees. The roof had partly caved in and the wood was old and rotting yet there was a light showing through the broken window. Letting his curiosity get the better of him, Rogel walked over to the door and, seeing as it was hanging off it's hinges, strolled in.

The main room was filled with old dusty furniture. An old dresser sat in the corner, half it's drawers scattered around the floor. It's peeling paint told it was once blue. The rafters were strewn with cobwebs and in the center of the room was a small campfire and an old dusty man.

He looked up, not frightened however, his face portrayed a sense of acceptance.

"Hello there sir."

His voice reminded Rogel of old paper crackling.

"HI. The name's Rogel. Rogel Arigas."

"Nero. Hopefully you know who that is?"

Rogel smiled and shook his head.

"Not a chance. I do like questions though."

The old man chuckled.

"Well, I do have a book on him. I suppose you could answer it yourself."

He handed Rogel an old book, cobwebs snaking off the sides of it's brown cover. Rogel murmured his thanks, slipping the book into his pack. They sat there for a while, Rogel looking around, absorbing, the old man simply stoking the fire.

Once the sun had passed the horizon line, Nero spoke up again.

"Where might you be headed? These roads are dangerous. Don't you know that?"

"Oh, Im off to Kromoranth. Theses roads..." He shrugged

"They're fine if you know how to travel."

The old man laughed at this.

"Yes, yes, and assuming you know how to travel you could visit a place a bit off to the north?"

Rogel slowly nodded.

"There's a path going through the woods there. If you know how to travel you could follow that up and into a cave."

"What is this all about?"

The old man smiled, not unkindly.

"Oh, you could say its a quest. I've met many people like you, seeking something, running from something. There's a lesson both in this book and in this quest. Don't ask me what."

Rogel smiled,

"Well, I did say I like questions."

Nero sent him on his way. Rogel walked onwards, heading north now and as he did he opened the book and read the first page.

*~Myth And Legend~*

Concentration narrowed Kahli's pupils, turned her piercing eyes into a scapel sharper than the talons digging into her clenched fists, easily piercing flesh. Soft pink feathers lay slicked down with the humidity of the room, somewhat blocking her view but she didn't blink, didn't flinch. On the pedastal in front of her lay an open tome - its front cover laced with gold leaf inlays and a scribe in a language no one spoke anymore. The pages lay flat and still despite the tangible flow of energy coursing through the room. It would have been easier in the University - conjuring a familar - but Kahli wasn't in the University anymore. She had to do this on her own.

Her voice rang out loud, steady, and un-wavering in the large room. On the far wall her partners watched, wide eyed, as a ball of light began to manifest itself above the book. Ka'lahii's brow furrowed in concentration - out of pain, anger, anxiety - while a bead of blood crawled it's way down the side of her cheek.

"Nascita!"

A flash of white consumed the room. Kahli found herself lost in the flash for nearly a moment too long when there was a thud, and before her eyes lay an egg the size of a small child. Kahli's eyes widened and she could nearly feel her pupils dilate. In a moment, her brow softened, and a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

"Woooooohoooooo!!!!! Way to go Boss!"

Kahli chuckled and wiped the perspiration out of her eyes. She turned to reply but then, a wave of haze washed her vision blurry. She saw the floor, rushing to greet her face, and then nothing else.

Summon Poncy:
Can call forth her familiar (animal companion), Poncy, at any time.

"Kahli. Hey, Kahli... Jijj, I think we're gonna haf'ta dump water on'a."

"Dumb water on me, Rodrin, and I'll carve your ears off."

Kahli sat up and rubbed the crust from her eyes. Her partners had moved her to her room but instead of a relaxing fire and a plate of dinner she was starring face to face with her fastest runner - and he was grinning ear to ear while at the same time managing to look terribly impatient.

"Rise and shine, Ms. Rehkar."

"Queith? I just sent you out four... three days ago. Back so soon?"

Quieth approached Kahli in her bed but stopped when the Aviti grunted out in pain as she tried to push herself into sitting. Rodrin rushed to her aid and held out a cup of steaming tea when she was finally situated. Kahli took it automatically.

"Jijj whipped it up for you earlier."

"It's a recovery potion," the girl spoke up, her soft sea green cat ears perking to attention. "You're not going to be feeling 100% after conjuring Poncy. This will help the pain."

"Thank you, Jijj. Now, Quieth, what is it?"

"You wouldn't believe me even if I explained, but get dressed I've got my scent on a spell shard and we need to act quickly."

"That's n-"

"An alive spell shard."

They both locked eyes for the briefest of moments before Kahli nodded tightly and rose with help from her bed.

"Alright, get the horses. Let's go."



Kahli tucked her cloak in tight around her and moved quickly from shadow to shadow. The place was quiet in the dead of the night. The only room that remained used lay illuminated like a gold nugget in a field of coal. Inside people sat eating and talking

Bingo.

Quieth said it was found by some lackeys of Carteneau and, lucky for them, he and his men were camped out not too far from her own resting grounds. It was almost too easy. Kahli eased her way to the side of the wall, moving softer than any of her feathers. The others followed into place, readying their spells and weapons.

Ka'lahii held up one finger at her side and took a deep breath.

"Birdsong."

All of the occupants inside of the room let out a collected scream and everything erupted into action.

"Go! Rerenega's Ar- AH!"

"Boss!"

Rodrin stopped and rushed to Kahli's side as she crouched and coughed up blood. Screaming in frustration, Quieth grabbed the back of the younger man's shirt and thrust him further into the room.

"Stick to the plan! Get the gem!"

Kahli crouched down low on the ground, cringing and gritting her teeth in pain. Her hands tangled into the feathers of her hair, ripping a few out at the stem. Shaking, she reached into her bag and grabbed a potion she got from Jijj earlier. After downing the concoction she raised to her feet and threw out her arms.

The people were starting to fight back, engaging a few of her team members in combat. She saw one going for a bag and instantly she snapped to attention.

"Voided Feathers!"

Behind Kahli manifested ten inky black, large floating feathers, all surrounded with a thick dark aura. With a flick of her wrist, all of the feathers went rushing towards the bag and the person reaching for it. The feathers hooked the bag and flew it into the air and out of reach. Another nearly missed a man's face, catching instead the air right before his eyes. He locked stares with her, the look on his face almost approving, and Kahli winked.

There was no time to celebrate, though. Kahli whistled and immediately everyone retreated. With the last bit of her power, Kahli cast Birdsong again - her teammates already prepared for the assault - and hurried away. Out, in the fresh open air, Kahli spread her wings and made to take off, but instead she crashed to the ground in a puff of feathers.

Her friends all rushed over, but by the time they arrived she was already in a different world, passed out cold on the grass. Quieth gathered her into his arms and swished his dragon tail angrily. He huffed before shaking his head clear and setting his jaw.

"We don't have time to idle about. Let's go. To the horses."

Ash

Ash crouched low against a chimney. The authorities had caught up with him at the edge of Highmoon. Now he was laying low. Sheathing his mace and putting his shield on his back, Ash sat back, breathing. It had been too long since he had felt cool night air on his face, even longer since he had had a good night’s rest. Ash decided to pray, nothing like a good prayer to wash away the blood on his hands, at least he liked to think of it that way. He sat up on his knees and bowed his head. His breathing evened out and he closed his eyes. Whether it helped him or not, praying always felt…..special. It soothed him, but not how it soothed others. For others, prayer soothed their soul, made them feel at peace, but for Ash, it soothed his nerves, readied him for another sin. With a calm voice Ash began to speak.

O grace that shrouds my soul
Warder of the dark sin
Defeater of the beast desire
My soul is yours to keep
Forever safe in your careful arms
Love me for who I am
Love me for what I am
Love me for why I am
Amen

With that Ash stood, pulling on his hood, and readied his weapons. They had gathered around him as he’d prayed, itching for a kill, but who could kill a man showing reverence? Who could kill a man washing away sin? And so they had waited for him to finish. Now that he had though, they charged at him. Ash turned and ran, leaping from building to building. Up ahead, another group of police blocked the path ahead, so Ash leapt down from the building and into an alleyway. The men ahead of him shouted and began leaping down, but he had already passed them. He was nearing the main square now, a circular courtyard with taverns and other various shops surrounding it. Five other roads lead in separate directions, but Ash was only interested in one. He was getting close, he needed to lose his pursuers before he reached his destination. Spotting a low hanging roof, Ash scrambled up onto it, then, when he was over the ledge and out of sight of his pursuers, he jumped onto the roof adjacent from him and slid down into the alleyway on the other side of the building. He waited, blending into the shadows, then, when the shouts of his pursuers were faded, he circled back to his previous route. About a half hour later, with no sign of the authorities, he found the guild. A small, solitary wooden building. It didn't look like much, but that was perfect for Ash.

Rogel

...with that being said, the theme of each is essential to the old virtues. A story isn't meant to be taken lightly, though they are intertwined with fabulous tales and mystical adventure, stories were meant to teach rather than to entertain. Some have forgotten that today.

Rogel closed the book there. That was enough for today.

He walked, the dirt of the old goat path crunching beneath his boots. The trees shook in the slight wind that had picked up as he'd entered the foothills.

He put the old tome back into his bag. It'd been interesting, filled with, as the name stated, truths. Truths hadn't always been something Rogel liked. He was always truthful now, it was easier than lying for him.

Sadly, it hadn't always been.

But reflection hurt, and he was sure this path was going to as well. He would not reflect today.

As he walked up the path, the air turned cold, whispering in his ears.

He had heard of this place, the old man, Nero, had been very serious about learning.

Remember

He refused politely.

Remember

He would not, and put up his, as he liked to call it, Iron Wall.

This was the Well of Warning. That's what it was doing, warning him.

This place was from an age at the edge of recorded history. The historians had not given it a name. Rogel mused that he should name it. It was Mistveil. He deemed Mistveil fit for one, it had copious amounts of mist, and two, it clouded his thoughts.

Giving a name was his way of ignoring the incessant whispering that had easily blown past his wall.

The warrior marched on. Muttering of happy days in his life and of how nice the mist felt on his face. Some would call it crazy, but he'd rather mutter happy things than remember.

So he came to the cave. He would've thought it adorned with engravings and runes but then remembered it was practically older than time. Even the strongest magic would fade after so long.

Instead, the cave was a simple hole in the mountain. Maybe it was a bit more square than a natural cave but the scent it exuded was enough to know that it was dangerous.

It smelled of old magic. Rogel was quite opposed to magic seeing as it had almost killed him multiple times. However, Nero claimed knowledge was to be gotten from this cave, and Rogel knew that anything worth achieving was painful.

So he stepped in, opening the book again and resuming chapter one.

It all felt so real, from the glass-sharp egg breaking in her hands to the sound of her skirts gently rustling in the wind. The seemingly fragile shell broke and punctured the soft flesh of her hands. The shards that splintered away flew and lodged into her arms, chest, and face. It had to have been a dream, but the soft purple and pink tufts of hair protruding from the holes of the egg even tickled when she brought them closer to her face, and once the top half finally broke away, the magenta eyes starring up at her - in adoration? - were too clear to be behind the fog of hallucination.

The creature smiled up at Kahli, but the expression lasted only a gossamer of a second before being replaced with a look of such genuine horror she dropped the creature quicker than if it would have bitten her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard hooves pounding against a hard forest floor and what could have been a prayer, someone pleading desperately into her ear.

The creature tugged the bottom of her skirts, giant eyes wet with tears.

"Wake up, Ka'lahii," it urged. "You've got to get out of here. Wake up. Now!"



She woke, the creatures name a whisper on her tongue. Her body jostled sharply with every step of the horses' gait, and only Quieth's strong hold around her waist kept her from spilling over. Every movement hurt, and at the front of her skull pounded the most intense headache she'd felt in months.

"Qui... th..."

The Redeye nearly fell over in his rush to stop the horse and jump to the ground. Behind him, Rodrin and Jijj stopped without being signaled and rushed clumsily to Kahli's side. Rodrin's face was already wet with tears and Jijj clutched a handful of potions in her shaking hands, eyes wide and worried. Gently, Quieth lay Ka'lahii on a soft patch of leaves and cradled the Aviti's face in his clawed hands, eyes nearly wet. Without asking, he pressed his lips to her mouth.

"We thought you were dead," he sobbed. "You weren't breathing, Kahli... I thought you were dead."

She tried and failed to shush his worries. Her throat was too dry for words and her limbs heavier than any steel. Instead she smiled weakly and moved her head into the warm center of his palm. Tentatively, Jijj approached, toeing around Quieth as if too heavy of a step might break the peace.

"I made these for you, Boss. Please-"

"We don't have time, Jijj. These are dangerous woods. We nee-"

"Kahli, ru- AH!"

Without a second's hesitation, Quieth jumped to fighting stance and ran to where Rodrin was knelt on the ground, an arrow protruding from his arm.

"Jijj, protect Ka'lahii at all costs," the Redeye yelled as he scanned the surrounding area. "Do you understand me?! We're being ambushed!"

The cat nodded tightly and mumbled a quick spell under her breath. In an instant, both she and Kahli were enclosed in a small barrier. Quieth, sword unsheathed, barreled into the trees. All Kahli heard was shouting. Blurs of color moved quickly in her vision and her stomach reeled. Closer to her, Jijj kept a steady flow of words moving from her mouth. Her hands hovered over Kahli's body, emitting a soft blue light. Every second that passed came with a feeling of rejuvenation. Before long, she was sitting upright.

"What's going on, Jijj?"

"We're going to be fine, Boss. We're going to be fine."

In time with Jijj's words, as if to mock them, the fragile barrier around them crumbled to pieces. In that same instant, Rodrin's body crashed to the ground from above. Kahli could feel him leave them, a tangible pull on her heart up and away from Earth. She gasped as if she'd been punched - hard - in the gut and crawled desperately to where the body lay crumbled in the dirt.

"No no no," she mumbled. "Wake up, come on, Rodrin, no! Dammit, Rodrin! Please!"

"Boss, look out!"

Jijj's body crashed into Kahli's throwing them both aside and out of the way of a beam of light that charred the ground where it met and left a crater in its wake. Somewhere in the distance, Kahli could hear Quieth's war screams cut off into a noise akin to drowning. Another pull, a lurch on her heart that hurt - physically, it hurt enough to double her into fetal position, clutching the fabric above her barely beating heart. Another tug and she finally noticed the smell of charred fur and flesh.

A chorus of laughs from above and around penetrated her ears. Kahli's eyes narrowed into slits and the pain of her nails piercing flesh was nothing more than an insignificant, dull pressure. Her vision seemed to vibrate. The trees shook without moving and the ground convulsed with the intensity of an earthquake in her eyes, devoid now of any tears.

"Come out little birdie," somebody whistled. "I think you have something that belongs to us."

The force of Kahli's screams seemed to push her off the ground on their own. She shot into the air, talons bared and Voided Feathers already shooting off in each direction. Around her a visible blue energy clung to her body and she swore she could hear her former mates cheering her on, flapping her wings for her, guiding her straight towards the nearest enemy.

Avenge them.

Rogel

...let us review chapter one. We have learned that, in essence, certain stories whether strictly cultural or widely known, shaped the laws and rituals of many smaller towns, tribes, hamlets, and many forms of small scale civilization. But what about larger cities?

Rogel snapped the book shut as a low moan echoed from the inky blackness ahead. So far nothing had changed in the path. He had been walking along the narrow stone bridge for nigh on an hour with not a sound or smell save for he fog of old magic. Now this.

"Hello?"

His voice echoed into the cave, Hello, hello hello, hellohello, hello.

Rogel kept walking, the soft "hello" still echoing around him. Soon a platform appeared from the blackness. Rogel quickened his pace, somewhat relieved to get off the narrow bridge.

He trotted over to the platform, took one look down, and scrambled back with a yelp. There on the plateau, was a dead...thing.

Then it moved, letting out a moan identical to the one he had heard earlier. Rogel stepped closer to it, peering down. The thing had a massive gash on its stomach, exposing some of the ribcage and other unspeakable extremities. Its skin was pale, as if it had lost all its blood, and taught across its mangled body.

The thing moaned again, and Rogel stepped around it, hoping to move on.

Quick as a whip, the thing grabbed his leg, and turned to face him.

"You..."

Rogel waited, fear making his scales itch.

"Who are you? What do you want from me?"

The thing smiled a toothless smile then replied in the same shivering voice.

"Remember.....us."

Just like that, the room was filled with bodies, all horribly mangled, staring up at him and grinning.

"No! No, stop please! I remember this! I remember just please stop!"

The bodies surged forwards, some walking, others dragging themselves along with their hands.

"Remember......us."

"I do! I do!"

In a frenzy, Rogel whipped his leg around, breaking the thing's grip and bolting back across the bridge.

Outside, he panted, his stomach roiling. What was that? What were those things?

He tried to fight it, but to his growing horror, he realized he knew all of them.

Whipping out the book, he flipped to the second chapter and furiously read,

Revered by all his people and some surrounding tribes, King Athmos was called the Elysium Prince, a name ripped from the pages of The Unknown. Athmos was a king. Moreover, he was a peace maker and believed not in divine power but in freedom for everyone. This value was perhaps influenced by many childhood stories that taught many unorthodox lessons and were condemned by most. This is a weak connection because not many stories influenced politics or society as time went on. However, the Elysium Prince is not to be forgotten solely because there is little to no proof really regarding him

Rogel sighed. Reading always helped him calm down. That old man, Nero, had played a dirty trick on him and he was going to get what was coming.

Rogel began to close the book the realized something. Opening it again, he re-read the paragraph. Then re-read it again. In growing horror he shut the book and quickly stuffed it into his pack.

The first letter of every sentence, it spelled something. It spelled,

R
E
M
E
M
B
E
R