Morningstar

He knew many of the attendees. There were a few unfamiliar faces as well. It always felt strange attending events like this. His relationships were surface level; he could count the number of times he had met most of the people in the room on one hand. He saw Hirru, whom he had had the pleasure of fighting with on a few occasions. Kat and Koga, too. Maybe he'd encountered the rest before, in passing or at a previous meeting, but he couldn't recall either way. Still, he'd gotten used to being unfamiliar to people over the years, and found it kind of fun. Interactions with no strings attach

The Fruit Knights were given no chance to explain their politics to Acanthus, because she and Freyd swiftly tore them apart. "Just like every other Friday," Star shrugged, joking. He took a few steps into the garden and without looking back at Freyd, answered, "olives are most definitely fruits. They're like grapes, but bad." They wandered into what was probably some weird fruit kingdom, troubled by no other guards for the time being. Hedges lined the path, with dozens of paths to their left and right, all separated by equal distance and labeled with a different fruit species. "Lemon

"Yeah, it's our pleasure," Star smiled. "And, please don't send me any olives." He took note of the time. They'd run a little later than he had expected them to. If he was quick, maybe he could still catch the sunset atop the Eye. What was the elevation again? Maybe he could use Charge to speed up his ascent. "I'd better run," he said, his eyes on his menu. He swished it away, looking over the two newbies one last time. "Omen and Circe. I'll be sure to remember those names. Give me a call if you need any more help." To account for his delayed start, he would travel by teleport c

Guild Name: The Trackers Alliance Guild Owner: Morningstar Guild Hall Name: The Trackers Alliance Headquarters Location: Floor 11 / Taft Description: Welcome to the Trackers Alliance Headquarters—a home base built for bounty hunters, adventurers, and scouts alike. Designed with a focus on both function and comfort, this place has everything a Tracker needs to stay sharp and ahead of the game. The main floor opens into a spacious, open area where guild members can gather and exchange intel. A widescreen holographic display keeps everyone in the loop with the latest bounties a

Star looked over his quest rewards. A whole lot of nothing. That was expected, considering it was his third playthrough of part one. "Yeah," Star confirmed. "That's it. Quick and easy." He half expected Pinball to disappear on the spot. It was a reoccurring theme, Star had come to realize, for the two to meet out of the blue before a quest, and then depart just as suddenly. There was never really a chance to figure out what he was all about. "Thanks for the help," he said. Not that he particularly needed it, but it was nice to have company in such a cold place. "Meteor suits you," he

Somehow, Wulfrin had turned a stick into a piece of art. "I'm impressed," Star smiled, eyeing down the long rapier. As its description explained, it doubled as the bow of a violin. It was an interesting weapon, one that he could never have wielded himself. It was too light and too thin for him, almost needle-like. There was someone out there who it was best suited for, however, and he was set on delivering it to them. "Thanks a ton," he said, making brief eye contact with the stranger who'd picked up a set of knives. He gave Star a strange, uneasy feeling. There was something in his eyes

"Sorry for the trouble," Star said, grabbing up his new item. He looked over the stitching and admired the fabric. "Yeah, this looks perfect. My client will love it, I'm sure. Thanks. This is much appreciated." He left with a wave, and headed way up to Coral for his next pickup. He had a triangle of stops, all in different places, and Coral was the last stop on his list. "Trinket, armor, sword..." Star muttered on his way through the rugged streets of the Town of Beginnings' underbelly. "Just leaves Wulfrin's shop and then I've got it all sorted out." picks up: Fencer's Regalia

Thread Summary Morningstar Receives: 1,163 exp | (2374/10)*7*0.7 200 col | 1 page Kingsley Receives: 166 exp | (2374/10)*1*0.7 200 col | 1 page

A completed guild hall with amenities. Morningstar couldn't have asked for anything more (even if it had cost him an arm, a leg, and over half a million col). He gave Kingsley and Warden the first official tour, starting with the main floor. It consisted of a large, open area with a wide hallway attached to it. What Star referred to as a foyer, which he wasn't sure was correct, was casual, with comfortable seating. Kingsley thought he had taken a page from his interior design book, but Star hadn't actually done any of it himself. The lobby also had a widescreen holographic monitor that had bee

Star visited the worksite daily to see how things were moving along. The rats were gone (supposedly) and a good chunk of the damage was fixed. Something in the system's mechanics made construction go a hell of a lot faster than in the real world. In less than three weeks, things were pretty much ready to go. "How's the lunch?" Star asked a construction worker on break. "Not great," the worker managed between bites. "100,000 col for not great. Lovely," Star thought, peeking around corners and into rooms. They had built him an office, which he didn't think he needed but kind of li

Star cleared his throat. He sat cross-legged at table, jotting down notes in his journal. The bell rang at the front of his shop, but today, it was not to announce customers. "Have a seat," Star gestured to the empty chair across from him. "Thank's for meeting with us today. My name's Morningstar, and this is Kingsley." "Good morning," said the old man, although it was almost quarter to two. "Good... morning? I'm Rubio," replied the applicant. Star squinted, clearly confused by Kingsley's obliviousness to time, but ignored it. "Good to meet you, Rubio. We'll start by asking

"Cool. Gumbo," Star said, taking a portion. Star had never considered practicing sword arts. He thought that what they had just done was practice, and that boss fights were the tests. He didn't see the harm in repetition, though. "I'm curious what 'theory warmup exercises' are," he said, taking a bite. Quite frankly, he didn't know what gumbo was. Without turning, he began to move. The direction was aimless, as he did not know where olives grew. After a few steps, his foot latched onto something stuck in the ground, and he tumbled backwards. It was a golden cornucopia. A variety of f

One of the newbies went in, while the other stayed back and watched. Star took notice, unsure of which approach was smarter. Omen had guts, though, following up Star's attack with a solid stun. Between that and Freyd's weird laser ball/boxing combo, he was in the perfect position to finish the fight. The cat's attention switched from Morningstar, to Freyd, to the ball. Star took a few steps back while it was distracted, giving himself a running start towards the beast. He rushed forwards, kicking up dirt and grass, and stabbed Ki'Raion in the back. It vanished, leaving behind a bit of loo

They made quick work of Ki'Raion. None of the three had been scathed, and Freyd had even picked up a bit of loot for their trouble. "Nice work, team," Star said, happy to be done with the overgrown feline. "Need help collecting those olives?" He asked Freyd. As much as he hated them on a personal level, he was in the area and thought it worth his time to lend a hand to a friend. "I've still got hours to kill," he said, popping the cork off of a strange purple potion and downing the whole thing. It tasted sweet, but not in a good way. It was more like... artificial sweetness. Not quite med

"You're looking at about half a million col." Star's jaw had been dropping quite a lot recently. He did a doubletake at the quote, his eyes scurrying down the list of expenses he was given. The crew alone was going to cost him 250,000. "Any way we can bring down lunch costs? Preferably, to zero? I don't really see why I'm paying for that..." "My guys gotta eat," the foreman said frankly. "Right," Star spoke slowly. "But—and no offense to you... or your guys—is that not their own responsibility?" "Look man," the foreman leaned back in his worn office chair. "That's the cost.

"So, anyways, the place was a total dump. The floors need to be torn out, a paint job is the bare minimum I'd need to do for the walls, and oh my gosh—the rats. I'm pretty sure it was a murder house or something too?" "That sounds terrible. Oh, well. There are better spots in Urbus, I think. Ronbaru too." "Oh, no. I bought it." "You what?" "I bought the guild hall." Dante's face contorted in some odd combination of confusion and hysteria. "You bought a murder house with rats in the walls? Willingly? With no dagger to your back?" "They weren't any rats in the walls

"So, as you can see, it's quite spacious. It was built for mercantile guilds, but the rooms could be used in whatever ways you'd like," the realtor explained, stepping over a broken floorboard. "It needs a lot of work, but you get what you give, right?" Morningstar stared at him blankly. "Right." "I'd expect about 60,000 col in renovations." "That seems low." "You're kind of getting a good deal, actually." "Well..." Star trailed off, poking at mysterious hole in the wall. The realtor led him away, steering clear of a patch of what looked sort of like asbestos. Was

approved

"This is the place?" Star eyed the building skeptically. It wasn't much more than a worn down old shack. There were cracks in the windows, letting in an awfully chilly breeze. The door's lock was broken—actually, the whole thing needed replacing. He was pretty sure he saw a rat. Was this really in Taft? Every other building in the area was astonishingly beautiful. Cobblestone shops lined the streets, well maintained and meticulously decorated. Nothing was there without purpose, and they even took care of their plants. "Yep, this is it. Asking price is 75,000 col," replied t

His shop was a mess. Swords and armor littered the workbenches in his office, mostly unidentified. He had procrastinated on a long list of items and let it pile up higher than usual. The plants on his window sill begged for water. He tried to keep up the habit, but it was so difficult to remember sometimes. He smacked his radio. Every day, it came closer to breaking down. Songs would play smoothly for a few tracks before becoming scratchy and staticy. Setting it back to normal took a not-so-gentle bump to the top every few minutes. It frustrated him. On his desk was a thick portfolio. She

Approved. 30 days until next reassignment.

Morningstar took the lead, as suggested by Freyd. The Bastion came and went quicker than he had expected, and soon enough they were in Ki'Raion's territory. Beautiful rolling fields. They were one of a kind on this floor. "Okay," he said to the group. "Like we planned. Me go first. Y'all do your thing." In a flash, Star was across the way, close enough to touch the big cat. "Heya, pal. Sorry to bother you on this fine morning. Er—is it afternoon? Ah, semantics." It swatted at him with its tail, and would have hit him if not for his reflexes. He dodged a flurry of quick claws and lean

"Lost? Me?" Star chuckled. "No... of course not... never... it's bingo night in Coral," he admitted. A few button clicks and the trade offer was succinctly denied. Star wasn't going to rob the girl blind, especially for a quest that they could finish in a few minutes. The longest part really was the commute. "We'll put it on your tab, how 'bout that. You can owe me." Past the Bastion Wall Shrine and far into the Forbidden Lands, the came upon the only spot on Floor 19 that Morningstar could call beautiful. It was unfortunate that a giant flower-cat lived there; if it was unclaimed, S

Someone else doing the stunning was a new experience for him. Usually, that was his job. Acanthus and Pinball slapped the stunned Night King's Soldier around like it was a pinata, poking at its health and applying every DoT under the sun. Morningstar engaged last, activating Charge and speeding in like lightning. He struck the warrior in the stomach with a closed fist, the impact reverberating through the old man’s weathered armor. As the King's Soldier stumbled back, gasping for breath, the swordsman didn’t hesitate. In a fluid motion, he twisted his body, bringing his sword up in a swift arc

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