By Nysa

Cenalorn had been talking about Hero Bracers for some time now.

“You should get a pair, Nysa,” he would tell me. “They’d be great for you.”

This was his roundabout way of trying to get me to go on a quest with him. When I finally agreed, he was ecstatic. He spent the better part of the day finding out whom we had to talk to and what we had to get. I, ever the Ranger, was interested in the layout of the lands we’d be going to, and got ready the maps and pertinent information on the geography and creatures we’d be encountering.

We met, as always, in front of the Bank in the Plane of Knowledge. Cen couldn’t keep still he was so excited – and he didn’t even want the bracers. You know how those Warriors are. I SOWed us both and we headed to the Qeynos stone.

Naturally, Cen had to stop at The Crow’s Pub and grab a bottle of Mead. I thought this was going to be “victory mead” for when we completed our quest, but he drank it right then.

“Get some more,” I told him, “so we can have some to drink as a little victory celebration.”

He was broke, so I went to buy two more bottles – “Get a stack!” he chimed in. Ah, my little alchie Warrior.

We stopped once more to buy fletching supplies from Tanen Fletcher. I knew there would be a lot of sitting around, and I could use the time to make some extra arrows. Besides, Cen needed some.

I followed Cen to The Arena and down into its depths. There stood a guard, resplendent in shining, silver armor that was in sharp contrast to the stark surroundings of the dungeon we were in. Cen and he began to talk and he told us of Kerran catman called Nomala that had escaped from the prison with the key to cell #7. Although he told us he believed Nomala had run to his home on Kerra Isle, Cen informed that he had more recent news of the catman’s whereabouts.

“He isn’t on Kerra Isle anymore,” Cen whispered to me. “From what I’ve gathered, he is now hiding on the small island known as Erud’s Crossing.”

We had been there before – I clearly remembered drowning whilst fighting undead sailors on a wrecked pirate ship just off the shore of the Crossing. Thank goodness I had since learned an Enduring Breath spell.

The sun was setting as we walked onto the docks – the sky a beautiful pink and purple hue out over the vast ocean. A small Gnome in a pink robe stood at the foot of the docks. As Cen walked up, she told us that the boats were not sailing and that she would transport us to our requested destination.

We told the lovely, little Gnome that we wished to travel to Erud’s Crossing. There was that strange sensation that accompanies traveling the portals and we found ourselves standing in front of the huts near the docks of Erud’s Crossing. There were two catmen in the huts, selling various wares.

“Can you track Nomala?” Cen asked me.

I nodded, looking to the ground I saw fresh little paw prints and began following them to the edge of the water. As we came over a gentle slope, we saw Nomala standing at the shore – looking out over the water. Cen rushed him as I shot off an arrow. In two hits, he lay dead.

“No key!” Cen exclaimed. “And I don’t think he’ll be back for another two hours.”

We decided to try and occupy ourselves during that time. We spent a good 30 minutes fishing. Cen drank 10 bottles of the stack of mead we’d brought along and managed to break two fishing poles in that time. Now drunk, he wanted to “kill things”. I spent a good while tracking willow wisps. We then made our way back to the sunken pirate ship and killed a few undead.

It was then that things got odd.

“Look!” I heard Cen exclaim. “The ship is going through the island!!”

Sure enough, I glanced up in time to see The Golden Maiden plough through the island, as it wasn’t even there. It was rather unsettling.

Tired of hunting, we went and sat ourselves at the campfire in front of the huts. I was making arrows and chatting with Cen when he complained of lag. Next thing I knew, he was gone. He never came back so I assumed he was having problems. By this time, Nomala had reappeared. I followed him from the huts to the shoreline and once more ended his life. This time there was a key.

Ready to end the night, I made my way to the docks. There was no translocator. Panicky, I tracked the small Gnome footprints half way up a large hill. A male Gnome in a mint green robe stood there – refusing to talk to me. I hailed him a thousand times, but I might as well have been invisible. I ran back to the docks, as I saw a ship approaching. But the ship suddenly turned and came straight through the docks and the island. I suddenly found myself on board, with everything sliding towards me – I was drug by the crazy ship halfway up the island!

Having enough of this bizarre night, I sent out a telepathic message for help. I felt like Gilligan stranded on the island like that. A kindly GM whisked me off the island and to Erudin. From there I took the book portal to the Plane of Knowledge and hopped back on over to Qeynos.

I found Cen there, waiting for me.

I figured I might as well end this part of the quest. I went back to the guard in the dungeon under The Arena, gave him the key – and nothing. Cen said our faction was not high enough with the Steel Warriors to do this quest. All that work for nothing. –sigh-

At least we can’t say the night wasn’t interesting!

By Nysa

It was late evening before I got off my lazy bum and decided to go out adventuring. I'd been lazing around in the Plane of Knowledge all day long; sitting atop the massive ancient trees and reading. There my secret is out - this Ranger is a bookworm. I have to admit that I have a love for learning about the rich histories of the lands of Norrath.

So as the skies began to grow a lighter shade, I closed my book and began to think about where I felt like traveling to this evening. I was close to advancing in my class and had good experiences with the plains on the shore of the continent of Kunark. The hunting was plentiful and the fellow adventurers I'd grouped with there had always been professional and fun.

I made a quick run to the Bank to empty my bags and pockets in order to bring back as much loot and coin as possible, and, realizing I needed arrows, went to see my favorite fletching supplier, Jaren Cloudchaser.

Ready to go I cast SOW and made my way over to what is known as the "Dark Side" of the Plane of Knowledge portals. As always, the cracked and dry grounds were clear of the hordes of people usually observed hanging around the portals. I made my quickly to the menacing looking portal for the The Overthere. The scorched and barren trees coupled with the grassless and brown earth made this nature-loving Ranger uncomfortable. The stone stood silent with its carved arms reaching up in a menacing arc over it; touching it I had that momentary sensation of being pulled from the inside out. Then there was light again and I found myself standing in front of the book portal. The salty sea air that was prevalent here, so close to the Timorous Deep, quickly filled my nostrils - even from this distance. The ground rumbled every so slightly, and I knew it was the gigantic golem on the other side of the stone wall next to me.

I closed my eyes, and chanted a few low words, and felt the spirit of the wolf coursing through my veins. A few more spoken verses and my Camouflage spell left me invisible to the naked eye. I began to run towards the giant opening to the Skyfire Mountains - having always been lucky in finding a good group there. As I neared it, I heard voices calling out petitions for open groups. An opening right at the entrance to Skyfire piqued my interest and I made my way to it.

The leader of the group was a large Barbarian Shaman - I hailed him and was allowed to join. The first ten minutes went by slowly. Our lowest level group member was pulling because the Paladin in the group claimed he "sucked" at pulling. I kept offering to pull, as my bow has decent range (100) but was just ignored. The Shaman kept yelling at everyone to make the pulls constant and there were intervals where no one did anything but stand around. Everyone in the group suddenly decided that they would like to travel to the ruins of Kaesora. Undoubtedly we would get good experience and even better loot, but there was no way I was traveling to such a place with this disjointed group; I did not trust my life in their hands (with good reason I was later to find).

This is the way of adventuring. There are good, solid groups and there are weak, disorganized ones. When you find yourself in the latter, all you can do is leave or make the best of it. I was so very close to leveling in my class, I decided to make the best of it. I took over pulling - keeping them constant. Our only healer was a Druid who was trying to kite-fear the rhinos and sabertooth tigers to reduce the hits we got - but the group didn't like this (apparently it tired them to chase the animals after Panic Animal was cast on them). Even though I'm a Half-Elf Ranger and we had a Barbarian Warrior, I was taking the brunt of the attacks. Our Druid did an excellent job of keeping us healed, however, but he had to take his leave. Not long later, a lower level Druid joined our ranks. He was doing well, also, but when all of our casters ran out of Mana, I sat for a break. What happened next is a classic in a WD group. The over-eager Warrior ran out and pulled a Stonegazer Cockatrice.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

His answer: "I'm bored."

I was angry, but tried to keep my cool. "You shouldn't pull while our casters are medding," I tried to explain to him.

He gave a typical, over-eager Warrior response, "We're not getting experience just sitting there. I can solo everything in here - no one is going to die."

Our Druid tried to tell him that people could still die - whether he could take on "everything in here" by himself or not.

Needless to say, 10 minutes later I was dead. I found myself staring at the mint green dress of the Plane of Knowledge Soulbinder. I heard nothing from my group. I tried to make a joke of it, telling the Warrior, "Can solo it all yourself, ay?", but he didn't get it ("Yeah, I can."). I had made it back to The Overthere when the ShadowKnight, one of the few in the group that I'd had no problem with, told me she could have my body resurrected for 50% of the experience I'd lost. Other than actually leveling, that was the best thing that had happened all night.

Unable to take anymore of this group, none of whom apologized for my dying or asked if I needed any help (in fact, they said nothing to me the entire time), I disbanded from them while my corpse was brought back to life by a very sweet Dark Elf Cleric who I couldn't have hugged enough. I'm still appreciative of my ShadowKnight groupmate and the Cleric I didn't even know taking the time to help me out that way.

Having had enough of adventuring and aggravating adventurers for one night, I made my way back to the Plane of Knowledge under the cloak of Camouflage. I decided I would spend the evening trying to sell some wares in The Bazaar as my trader satchels were overflowing with things I needed to either sell or destroy.

Within minutes of entering The Bazaar, filled with hundreds of people and loud with the din of merchants shouting wares and adventurers offering trades, one deep and resonance voice stood out among the others. It wasn't his deep, obviously-Dwarven voice that caught my attention, but the item that he was interested in parting with: Talisen, Bow of the Trailblazer. A definite step up from my Rough Ashwood Recurve Bow. The price was 400 platinum - which I had.

I quickly let the dwarf know that I wanted to purchase this bow, and we met in front of the Bank at the Nexus zone. Getting a new, and good, bow made all of the other petty irritations of the evening nil. With a smile on my face, I made myself comfortable atop a large wooden box and set up a my trader booth.

All in all, not a bad night.