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As the description says... this is my second attempt. Hopefully, this one is more within the framework then my last attempt. Please feel free to comment/critique.


dawench (ingame name Acorn)





Acorn sat in the quietest corner of the Drunken Pony, slowly sipping at a mug of ale. The tavern was packed with travellers either going to or coming from Isla Prima. Diana, the tavern keeper, was bustling around, much too busy for one of their usual chats. Acorn chuckled to herself as a fresh faced youngster darted up to the bar and slapped his hand down hard on the counter. Diana cursed him as he ran from the tavern. Slapping the counter of the various taverns around Whitestone seemed to have become a sport lately and Diana often grumbled over the disruption it caused. This was how Acorn had first met Diana. Less than a month before, Acorn herself had been one of the fresh faced youngsters slapping the counters of the taverns of Whitestone. Now with her leather armour stained with blood and feeling stronger and a little wiser, Acorn no longer had time or interest in games. What did interest Acorn was learning the skill of manufacturing. She longed for the day when she would be skilled enough to pound metal into armour or talented enough to make enchanted weapons. Her fingers itched to get a hold of dragon scale and see what she could make from it. It wasn’t just the skill alone that Acorn wanted. She wanted the respect and admiration that came along with being a master armourer. She especially wanted that respect and admiration from Michael.


Acorn had met Michael the week before in the Valley of the Dwarves. He owned the general store there and had been very friendly when Acorn had gone in to sell the fox fur scarves she had made. She had listened intently as he told her of the great weapon and armour makers of Draia. He told her of their skill and fame and their fortune. His handsome face beamed with excitement as he proudly displayed his prize possession, a complete set of black dragon scale armour. Acorn was captivated by his stories and also by his charms. Michael had admired the quality of her scarves and asked if she would be willing to make him 100 fur hats. Acorn had been abashed when she had admitted that she didn’t know how to make a fur hat. He had smiled warmly at her when he told her what items she would need to make the hats. He also told her that when she brought him the hats he would tell her how to make fur cloaks and that he would pay a good price for them. Acorn had left his store excited at the prospect of bettering her skill. She also felt a strong desire to make his face glow with the excitement she had seen on it when he talked about fine weapons and armour.


This was why Acorn sat sipping ale in the Drunken Pony on that particular day. For the entire previous week she had done nothing but hunt white rabbits in Whitestone. She needed a break from hunting. As it was, she was frustrated and dismayed that all she had to show for her efforts were 35 pelts. White rabbits didn’t seem to be that plentiful in Whitestone. Acorn finished the last of her ale and was contemplating going back to the hunt when a stranger entered the tavern. His titanium plate armour and thermal serpent sword showed him to be a warrior of great wealth if not skill. Dangling from his belt were dozens of white rabbit pelts. Acorn was wondering whether she should ask him where he hunted when he spoke to her.


“What are you staring at?” he asked in a gruff and demanding voice.


Acorn was smart enough to realize that he could probably kill her with one blow from his mighty sword. She smiled at him pleasantly and in her most respectful tones said, “I’m sorry if I was staring, but I couldn’t help but notice all the lovely white rabbit furs you have.”


Mollified, the warrior relaxed and sat down across from Acorn. He bellowed at Diana to fetch him ale and food. As he ate he told her where he had been hunting.


“The Grubani Peninsula is a great place if you want furs like these,” he told Acorn. “Just head south at the first fork west of Lakeside Village and you’ll be on the right road.”


Acorn thanked him politely and offered to pay for his meal. He thanked her and then quickly stood up and left the tavern. Acorn left soon after him and headed along the western road. Before long she came to the fork and made her way south. It was a short while later when she saw the signpost that marked the boundary between Whitestone and the Grubani Peninsula. Passing through the gap in the mountains, Acorn entered Grubani with a spring in her step. She happily noticed that there were few trees in Grubani which would make spotting the rabbits much easier. Smiling with the idea of how easy her task had now become, Acorn stepped off the road and into a grassy meadow. She had taken just three steps when she spotted a fluffy white rabbit. With a roar of glee, Acorn sprang at the creature. To her surprise it charged at her. She had never seen a rabbit act like that. Before that thought had finished entering Acorn’s mind the rabbit was upon her. It shredded her leather armour without any effort and then its teeth and claws were ripping at her flesh. Acorn knew that she was going to die. She could feel the animal ripping the life out of her. Her eyes closed and she felt and thought no more.


Pain, unending and terrible, rolled over Acorn in waves. It screamed along her body and crashed into her brain. The mewling cries like that of a tortured creature awoke Acorn. Only then did she realize that she was still alive and that the horrid noises were coming from her. Her mind senseless from pain failed to notice the trio of people standing around her. She barely heard the mumbled incantations as the trio used magic to bring her back from the brink of death. She slipped back into the pain numbing realm of unconsciousness as the largest of the three lifted her up in strong arms. When next she awoke, Acorn was by the campfire on Isla Prima. Her wounds had been tended and the pain had receded to a dull throb. She had vague memories of three people coming to her aid but she couldn’t picture their faces. Looking around the campfire, the only person in sight was Prattler, the story teller. With a sigh of regret, Acorn closed her eyes and fell back into a healing sleep.


When Acorn had fully recovered her health, she returned to Whitestone and went back to her hunting of white rabbits. These rabbits were weak and easy to kill unlike the horror she had encountered in the fragrant meadows of the Grubani Peninsula. It took some time, but, eventually, she had all the necessary items to make 100 fur hats. It was with a sense of self-satisfaction that she took the boat to the Valley of the Dwarves. Michael smiled at her as warmly as he had the first time but didn’t seem to remember her at all. He thanked her for bringing him the hats and then started gushing about weapons and armour and the greatest makers of these in the realm. It was practically the same conversation as her first one with him. Acorn thanked him for the gold he gave her and quietly left. She didn’t even bother to ask him how to make a fur cloak. Once back in the familiar world of Desert Pines, Acorn returned to hunting foxes and wolves and never forgot the lesson she had learned. Appearances can be very deceiving, especially those of white rabbits and handsome men.

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Interesting story :whistle:


I think Ace might be right though, perhaps you should try reading a few of the posted official stories to get a feel for how the game translates into a story world?


Characters are simply characters and don't really act like NPCs


With a roar of glee, Acorn sprang at the creature.

She going to kick it to death like we do ingame? :confused: somehow I don't see a sweet young lady stamping on a bunny or breaking its neck, she needs a weapon, or a bow and arrow. An effective way of hunting.


That's just an example of how its a bit too much of a literal view of the game, also, if Acorn's ultimate goal was to work with armors and metals and make weapons and such, in a story world she wouldn't start with fur clothes :P It fits into the same skill for the game, but there's really not much that sewing and catching little animals will teach you about a more blacksmith/magical trade (creating enchanted weapons, or armors).


I'd recommend taking some time to look at some of the official stories, or even other submissions, and see how the world is really quite different in a story :)

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With a roar of glee

Might just be me, but this seems very manly. A roar just has angry connotations for me, nice story though and Acelon is right, the NPCs are just that: non-player characters. Treat these stories as you would any other, just set in the Eternal Lands and in conjugation (best I could transcribe:P) with the rest of the lore

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