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Game Master
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About Lessa

  • Title
    The Violet Guardian
  • Birthday 05/28/1992

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  • Guild Name
    The Tarot

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  1. ꧁༺Lessa༻꧂ Lessa, The Violet Guardian Level: 31 Paragon Level: 39 HP: 820/820 EN: 114/114 Stats: Damage: 23 Mitigation: 122 Accuracy: 2 Battle Healing: 41 H.M.: 8 HLY: 8 REC: 8 THRNS: 72 Equipped Gear: Weapon: Arcael's Might (T4 THSS - DMG DMG DMG HLY) Armor: Empress Armor (T4 HA - HM HM THNS THNS) Misc: Neutron Star Necklace (T4 TRINKET - ACC ACC REC REC) Skills:
  2. ꧁༺Lessa༻꧂ Lessa, The Violet Guardian Level: 31 Paragon Level: 39 HP: 820/820 EN: 114/114 Stats: Damage: 23 Mitigation: 122 Accuracy: 2 Battle Healing: 41 H.M.: 8 HLY: 8 REC: 8 THRNS: 72 Equipped Gear: Weapon: Arcael's Might (T4 THSS - DMG DMG DMG HLY) Armor: Empress Armor (T4 HA - HM HM THNS THNS) Misc: Neutron Star Necklace (T4 TRINKET - ACC ACC REC REC) Skills:
  3. [Floor 26] Floor Boss Sign-Ups If you'll be participating in the upcoming floor boss fight, please post here. This is an OOC post - it does not need to be in character, and you will receive no rewards from it. The boss fight will begin the first week of November, a few days after the meeting is concluded. Breaks will be given for holidays should the fight take that long. This fight will be limited to three character per writer (so you are welcome to bring along two alts). You may post on each account you plan on bringing, or simply post a list of the names with one account. Si
  4. Closed to Alkor The steam climbed the cool air, bringing with it the impossibly sweet scent of apples, caramel, and cinnamon. Lessa breathed in like a drowning woman reaching the surface, filling every part of her with the familiar aroma. But when she exhaled, her own breath mingling with the vapor, she found herself wholly unsatisfied. Lifting the steaming mug, she pressed it against forehead, relishing in the way the heat permeated her cold skin. The spark of warmth raced through her system, but did little to fight off the chill that never seemed far off. And as her blue eyes open
  5. Closed to Baldur "I really appreciate your letting me do this." Lessa glanced around the horse's rear end to beam a grin at the old woman. The pure, unadulterated joy on her flushed face might have been more at home on a lottery winner, rather than a girl with her hands on a horse's dirty tail. Expertly, she tangled her fingers in the wiry strands, dragging them downward to work out the tangles. "Seriously, I know it was a weird request. It means so much to me that you were willing." The NPC gave a soft chuckle, shaking her head. "It was," she agreed, reaching down to plunge her hand
  6. The door swung inward, beckoning the victorious adventurers forward. A warm breeze swept through the open passageway like breath through lungs, carrying with it the pungent odor of someone else's waste. A long corridor rolled out like a grime-covered red carpet, seemingly endless as it plunged into the dark. Though it took quite some time to traverse the tunnel, those willing to make the trek were rewarded with a tall, heavily fortified door. Thick wood stood sandwiched between slabs of metal, and an enormous handle dangled from the right-hand side. It connected to a deadbolt, though the thick
  7. When Mac took off, his orange cape flapping behind him like some sort of superhero, Lessa made a snap decision. It appeared he'd learned something, and since their interrogations of orphans weren't getting them anywhere, it was worth following up. So she followed behind, boots thudding on the grime-covered stone, she noticed that their path was beginning to slope downward. Was the entire city at an angle, as some ancient civilizations were built? That sort of construction allowed sewage to flow naturally to the edges of the city, but Lessa didn't get the sense they were exiting the settlement.
  8. The souterrain seemed to reach forever, the windowless walls closing together with each step. That, of course, was simply an optical illusion, caused by the haphazard stonework and flickering light cast by uniformly spaced metal lanterns. Three things remained true: the stench of sewage, the plunging temperature, and the path's slight downward slope. By the time the intrepid Players finally reached the enormous wooden door, they had traveled far beneath the city. To their Cobwebs, old rope, and slime-slicked vines clung to the ceiling like macabre crepe-paper streamers. Rotting barrels, long f
  9. Grinning, Lessa regarded her newest groupmates. It had been a long time since she'd teamed up with strangers, especially those who were so low-level. Once, she had spent most of her days leading level ones through beginner quests, and training them to survive in Aincrad. But many of them hadn't taken the training seriously, or taken advantage of her kindness in one way or another. When one of her young pupils was killed by a boar, Lessa found herself withdrawing from the social scene. While she still tutored young Players, it was in social studies and English, not swordplay. So much had c
  10. Lessa slanted Mac a grateful smile. She didn't know the man well, but had heard quite a bit about him. None of the rumors had said anything about him being so sweet, or good with children. People were always surprising her. "And my name is Lessa," she continued as soon as Mac fell silent. "I'm a blacksmith too, but not nearly as good at it as Mac is. I can't tell you how many times I've hit my finger with the hammer!" It wasn't a lie per se - she had absolutely fumbled the hammer on more than one occasion. But the in-game mechanics had kept her from feeling the pain. Her attempt at humor was r
  11. ♦Lessa The first floor never changed. One might assume that it would, given the sheer volume of Players in the Town of Beginnings. Even half a decade into the game, the population still pressed against the protective walls like an overstuffed suitcase. Of course, instead of dirty laundry or obscenely over-priced souvenirs, Starting City was filled with frightened level-ones, orphans, shopkeepers, and battle-hardened Players who looked to lose themselves in the crowds. Then there were the oddballs, who wandered the busy streets without any real motivation. They had no destination in m
  12. "I-I guess so," she replied, somewhat shakily. It had been a while since she had interacted with children, and she had never expected to do so while searching for a boss room. But Baldur might be on to something, and besides, this was her first time. Who was to say that asking children for directions wasn't what you were supposed to do? Still, the blonde hung back a few paces while Baldur approached the NPCs. Dirt and grime caked their skin, and the faint sheen of grease in their hair spoke of infrequent bathing. Are they homeless? Or just a couple of kids playing outside together? Lessa
  13. “Close?” Lessa echoed, then tilted her head in thought, sending her blonde hair slipping over her shoulder. “I’m not sure I would say we are close. Not as close as you and I, at least. But we are guild mates, and I consider her a friend.” A small smile ghosted across her face, the expression oddly wistful. “She’s definitely interesting, yeah. I’d also like to get to know her better, but we haven’t really had the chance. Maybe more adventures like this will make that possible. You're welcome to come along, and we can both spend more time with her." Shifting her gaze, Lessa stared at NIGHT'
  14. With mixed emotions, Lessa studied Bahr's crumpled face. The completion of the floor boss raid, and the fact that no one died, was cause for celebration. Yet nothing about Bahr's tone, posture, or expression spoke of joy. Instead, she found only annoyance. This was not an unusual mood for Bahr - he had a habit of holding himself to lofty standards, and was often too hard on himself - but it felt so out of place here. In her clean, cozy kitchen, warmed by the crackling fire and the midday sun, she always found positivity. One more thing that just feels off today. "I guess that's something
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