Ranmaru's Chronicles

I've been through that temple of baby sacrificers several times, alone even, and I've not encountered much problems. This time I brought along a small retinue with me: Ayda-chan, the Lieutenant, and another whose name made me believe he was Haitian. We entered the halls as usual, getting rid of a few crazed and wide-eyed cultists in our way with little hassle. Then, things got ugly, quick. Simply put, unfortunate stumblings took place at the most inopportune of times and our dear Lieutenant went plunging into that sacrificial pit. With our field medic now an official offering to Astarte Astagartis, our only priority now was to get out of this, suddenly much more forbidding, temple. I set out to scout the way to safety but after a few steps, I walked into trouble: jaguars, a whole pack of them. There was not a whole lot I could do except, well, let them have Japanese for dinner. Not the most enjoyable of days. *chuckle*

We wandered through the forest, stumbling about trying to find our desitination. We had been given conflicting directions: I led my group to a dead end but thankfully the priestess knew the right way. After disorienting wanderings through the woods we had finally arrived at our goal, but we did not find what we had expected. Strewn about the ground were rusting pieces of armor, an appendage from some ungodly creature and most chillingly, a bloodsoaked piece of clothing. Some poor soul had met an untimely fate here and I was certain we were soon to find out why.

From behind us an angelic being came into our room. It phased in and out, seemingly preoccupied with something until another even more imposing celestial being appeared before us. This greater being then summoned ... it: Two terrifying cretures of enormous size. They appeared to be bird-like, their wings outstretched and shimmering. My party stood awestruck as the two beasts towered over us. The winged beings secreted some kind of fluid, which we took care to avoid by keeping a distance of 5 paces. We did not know what to do, we were not prepared for the appearance of these creatures.

As we planned our course of action, an innocent citizen wandered into the room. Then another. And still more people came in. Did they not know what peril they were putting themselves in? They all gathered heedlessly beneath the beasts, unconcerned about whether they would be stomped, eaten or covered in moisture. All we could do was pray that the winged beasts would be merciful and finish these poor souls with little agony.

Then there was clapping, and later some cake and champagne.

It was during my studies in Melbourne when I first bumped into her (quite literally). On one of those mad dashes to get to the lectures with a slice of toast between my teeth, the poor thing had the misfortune to be standing behind a corner as I turned on my pell-mell path. We collided quite spectacularly, sprawling to the ground with our hands and heads ending up in awkward places. A little embarassed, but more concerned about being late for the lectures, I got to my feet, gave a quick apology and hastened on my way.

A few weeks later, as I was tending to the honeybees in my townhouse courtyard, there was a knock at the gate. It was the same timid slip of a girl. Her clothing, while not dirty, were worn past their prime. I let her in and we talked a little. Her name was Ayda Hayes. She was an orphan, her parents having simply disappeared one day. Still in her early teens, she had been able to persevere on her own and had carried herself this far. As I listened to her story, I could not help but notice the object which she seemed to clutch with so much affection. A rifle. Her father's rifle. And she had come to learn the Way of the Gun. I could not refuse.

A New Year has come! To make a fresh start, I did a little house cleaning to mark this new beginning. There were so many souvenirs of so many travels. From the Inferno there were ancient texts, a plethora of entrails and scars, a fiery little lizard (missing something Rowane?) and a dead chicken. Brought back from the tomb of Qin Shi Huang was an ancient crossbow and quiver and an array of gems from the emperors throne room. Various other things lay scattered about the townhouse: an assortment of jewelry from the Shadowlands, footwear from the Pirates Den, and an oh so treasured Cloak from the realms of Tartarus. But much of it had to go!

Your housing cost per day is 14947 gold.

Sorting between what should be kept, what should be sold, and what should dropped in the Agrabah dump, I came upon an album which contained pictures, some of friends, but mostly of Aryia and myself. It's a rare occurence when I do see the wife nowadays, she's ever so busy. And the few times I do meet her, there's some kind of, I don't know, akward feeling. Placing the album aside, I returned to the sorting: out went vials of clear, milky, and orange liquids, spare cultist robes and 'unpopular' Seoni earrings.

Your housing cost per day is 12463 gold.

Hey, it's an improvement. The New Year is a time for new beginnings. Best wishes to you all!

(It's been a while!) To pass some time, I decided to go on a stroll by myself through the Shadowlands. It's always a thrill tumbling past hounds and dodging sidhe guards. I got a little careless though, taking a wrong turn and I soon found myself in a dead-end. With a spectre. With nowhere to run. A life or death battle ensued!

[Info]: Ranmaru killed by the spectre.

It was a glorious slaughter. I pondered for a bit on how I was to recover from this situation when from behind, I could hear footsteps approaching. Would you believe it? Anadreva had come to the rescue! Making our way back to the dead-end, Dreva-chi fearlessly (?) charged into battle against the spectre, her sword slashing with ferocious (?) intent. Soon, the spectre was sent to winds, with Dreva-chi more or less intact (Hooray for Dreva-chi!) In celebration, we went to Aquae Silus and, as the Romans do, enjoyed a bath.

A poor soul had lost his belongings within the fortress of Al-Amut and was in the need of assistance. Obligingly, I assembled a party to retrieve his possessions. Everything went fine: we encountered only slight resistance, retrieving his items with little difficulty. We then made our way to Paradise with the intention of 'recalling' ourselves. Unfortunately, the aforementioned poor soul, our recaller, recalled himself first by accident. There were a few potions available, but still not enough for all of us to return to safety. Those of us who remained waited, pondering our course of action. Slowly, I could begin to hear the mutterings coming from down the hallways of the tower: the assassins were returning. As we steeled ourselves and prepared for our fates, the rock wall grinded open and in entered...Aryia. We traded tense stares as as she proceeded to invoke the spells to transfer my party members to safety. When only the two of us remained, I did not know what to say. All I could utter was a quiet 'Thank you'.

Back to civilization, I began to think. I had nigh on given up on her, but yet she still had come in my time of need...in fact, she was always there in my time of need. After my return from lifelessness, I was overwhelmed by my memories, the unfortunate images from the wedding were the only things filling my mind. It was only now that I could realize the trials and tribulations she had gone through...because she loved me. The bond of trust had been broken by me, not Aryia. I tracked her down, but as I approached, there was still that gleam of dismay in her eyes. Flickers of flame began to dance on her fingertips and I instinctively put my hand to my weapon...I had not come for here to do this. We needed to talk. I rested my hand and whisked her half way around the world back to Mount Hua where we had a conversation...

Eventually, the sun began to set as Aryia and I admired the view, hand in hand.

There is a saying: "A woman goes into a marriage hoping the man changes, but he doesn't. A man goes into a marriage hoping the woman doesn't change, but she does." I cannot say how she views me, but I know how it is from my end. There is no reason to go back. That is not the same person I met. I remember, a kind, innocent person, a person with whom I could freely share my feelings with. Now, all I see is a anger driven monster who refuses to listen to reason. I deeply apologize to all of those who had attended the wedding. I shall be returning any wedding gifts I have in my possession. Now please, just leave me alone.