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About Morningstar

  • Title
    The Lightbringer

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    Solo Player

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  1. With that, the elemental was destroyed and the world saved. Aside from the burning land around them. Also, Morningstar wasn't convinced that the world was in any real danger at all. "We should probably leave this to the next tier players in the area and move on to the raid. People will be waiting." Before Morningstar could concur, Freyd was berated for his disinterest in Cinnabar's plot. He bit his tongue to avoid being flayed. Frankly, he had no idea what was going on, nor the relevance of the sudden appearance of the elemental. With a sigh, he considered Vigilon's question. "
  2. It didn't take Ren long to finish his work. Morningstar, continuing his examination of the smith's wares, spun around upon hearing his voice. "That was quick," he chimed, lifting the two packages from the counter and going on his way. "Thanks! I'm sure I'll be back." He raced back to his shop, eager to try out his newly improved blade and to hand over the scythe that Nari had been searching for. He stepped through the teleportation arch and, on the other side, materialized on floor eight. About an hour later, he sat the packaged weapons on his workbench and crafted a message to his friend
  3. Morningstar, gentle with his weapons, made a display across Rencesvals' table. He laid out two straight swords and two polearms, each with some sort of frost enhancement. He had also brought the required scales and shards for the task at hand. "Two fusions, please," Morningstar said to the black smith. "Bleeding Giant's for me, Siondhe's for a customer. Just need the enhancements switched around. Oh, and I'll turn Giant into a demonic, while we're at it." He placed two gleaming scales and one demonic shard on the counter. "No rush on this—I'm staying in town for a little while anyway
  4. Morningstar nodded, following with a punch of his own. Unlike his previous attempt, his fist hit it firmly. It was his best one yet. Satisfied, he stepped back. "Yeah, from what I can remember, it was difficult putting together teams for the previous raid fight. The roles were awkward to fill and some people had to respec into tanks just to even it out. I haven't heard anything about the labyrinth on twenty-eight yet. I imagine someone's already taken it upon themselves to take a peek, but they aren't so easy that you can just wander in and clear them. They take time and preparation."
  5. bunch of unique identifications, all paid for.
  6. "Good plan," Morningstar replied, wishing he was weird and carried chalk instead. He placed his hand on the wall as well "Guess we go right, then." And so they did, following the winding path until their path branched again. This time, they were left with two distinct choices. They could turn and continue to walk freely through the wooden passageway or they could go straight, towards two armed guards. While at first glance, the decision was obvious, Morningstar was not so sure. The guards stood face-to-face, with their backs to the walls. In a hushed whisper, he turned to Oji. "Usually, g
  7. now it is 2.24.2024 cost = identifications[30,400]+rerolls[31,000]-junk[12,700]=48,700 col
  8. His next punch was a bit too gentle. This time, the boulder didn't budge. He didn't mention it, his mind already wandering elsewhere. "Oh, you know Freyd and Nari? They're good people, great additions to the friends list." "I get what you mean, though. Even for me, it's hard to find people of equal level. I guess it stops mattering, eventually. There aren't enough frontline-level players for people to be picky about who they invite to things. Even if you're twenty or thirty levels down, you'll surely have the chance to throw yourself into some fights that probably aren't intended for you.
  9. "No worries," Morningstar shrugged, following Wulfrin's act with a punch of his own. A rock flicked off the boulder, nearly hitting him in the eye. "Always need more crafters, I think. Raids can be costly and there's only so many players who can afford to support the frontlines' needs. And then there's people like you, fresh out of the Town of Beginnings and in need of gear. I can toss a unique in the direction of a frontliner, but I'm not much help when it comes to low tier items. Smiths are valuable." Stretching out his wrists, he moved out of Wulfrin's way. "I like twenty-two
  10. "G'morning," Morningstar called, peeking his head inside the door to Freyd Edges. It was a homely little shop in a generally gloomy city. He eyed the various trinkets, odds and ends, admiring Freyd's collection. He realized he had never actually been to Freyd's shop before. The senior appraiser had always come directly to Star or left things with his blacksmith friend. Without looking up from a curiously designed sword, he spoke. "I was wondering if I could snag some unidentified weapons of your hands. Got a bit of a difficult customer. They're looking for Frost and my luck's just not the
  11. "This place'll do that—bring out old skills. New ones too, really. I wasn't a fighter in real life but now I kill dragons and bandits and such, "Morningstar chuckled, "I'm learning all sorts of things that won't be applicable after the game's done. Although, I have gotten quite good at appraising items, so maybe I can open a pawn shop back home." He stepped up quickly, gaining momentum, and launched his fist at the rock. Punch after punch, they slowly depleted its hit points. The crack grew more, rocks crumbling off from the spot they'd been hitting. "If you're okay with some more un
  12. Morningstar nodded, impressed with the crack that Wulfrin had left in the boulder. He took a deep breath in preparation and then struck the boulder. The crack grew larger, albeit only slightly. It would take a while for them to break through the whole thing, but it would break eventually. He shook out his hand. It wasn't exactly pain that he felt as much as it was discomfort. "We'll be done by nightfall," Morningstar said, hopeful, and then moved out of the way for Wulfrin to take his turn. "You're don't happen to be aiming for the Martial Arts skill, do you? You'd be good at it, I t
  13. Morningstar paused before taking another bite of his sandwich. He stared at Vigilon, surprised by his sudden outburst. He cleared his throat. "I mean, probably. To be honest, I'm a little bit uneducated; but, I've been meaning to look into it. If Krysta doesn't already know, then maybe let her know. She's strong, though, so I doubt she'd be picked on." The sound of urgency in Vigilon's voice made Star want to investigate even more. He'd save it for another day. He snacked again, this time managing to bite, chew and swallow before he felt the need to speak again. "Non-gamers are always int
  14. It was difficult, like Wulfrin had said; however, Morningstar had some experience with meditation. For him, the issue was not prolonged stillness of the mind, but withstanding the crashing wake of the waterfall. It pounded against his body nonstop and unrelenting. With closed eyes, he tried his best to breathe through the discomfort. The severity of it increased until, towards the end, it plateaued and he had become accustomed to it. In an odd way, it even felt relaxing. He'd surely need to stretch afterwards, though. Thirty minutes had flown by. He followed his acquaintance out of the wa
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