Leaving Faydwer was not a difficult choice for us. Only the lesser citizens of Norrath seemed to dwell in that wretched place. Max and I decided to head to the vast continent of Antonica in our ever constant search for death and glory.
We knew that if we were to leave Faydwer we would have to get our souls bound to the land, but this did not concern us! It is a casters job to help and buff others...everyone knows that. "The bustling city of Freeport will be full of them!" I shrieked to Maxadon.
Wrong.....how could we have been so wrong. We arrived in the ghostown that is Freeport and were bewildered. Days passed and we saw no one. We finally happened upon some folk but these dregs of society would not even acknowledge us! We searched high and low for a bind, for a fight,... for anything! Our hope had begun to fade.......
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Apparently the cowardice in Faydwer runs farther and deeper then we knew. What a sad state the world is in!
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Our luck began to change one day when a druid dandy named Sir Achas meandered into Freeport. Not interested in giving us a bind at all, this man relished the thought of a merciless beating and we were, of course, happy to oblige! He started off by casting a spell on me while I was sitting by some guards....which did not turn out so well for him. To our surprise this Mary came back however, and we met him at an unguarded area. The beating that ensued lasted 14 seconds.
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We were somewhat disappointed by his extraordinary lack of courage. Of course all druids have the gate spell memorized at all times, so we were not very surprised when he cast it.
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Shortly after this encounter a luminous being of hope and good will entered the zone! Telemakos was his name. He was happy to bind us to the land and now we were free to roam Antonica without the worrisome thought of being sent back to Faydwer. We were overjoyed to say the least!
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We decided to bestow the greatest honor we could think of upon Telemakos The friend. We named a constellation in his honor! If you ever find yourself without hope, thinking all is lost, then look to the sky! If your lucky his glorious light just might shine upon you!
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And so we became gypsies. We roamed the land stealing crops and abducting children as all gypsies do.....we had to pass the time somehow! Finding a good ol' fight wasn't an option.... the people of Norrath are like the fog of Kithicor, an anonymous, hidden haze.
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We had made it to the Southern Karana when we decided this lifestyle was not for us. We started beating up some giant bird men when a member of our favorite cult showed up! We quickly realized though that this man was unique....different from any other we had fought ( which isn't saying much! ). This Mr.happy leapt from the shadows and struck us, but then vanished from sight instantly! His transmogrification from both seen and unseen was remarkable! "This must be a rouge!" I said to Maxadon. "Why, look at his immense damage and his stealthy cunning, the likes of which we have never seen!". "No no!" said Max, "This must be a shaman! Look at his impressive speed and regeneration!" Whatever this creature was, he was driving us mad. Completely defenseless, we headed for Lake Rathe in a desperate attempt to find an advantage.
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Just before we reached the lake I noticed the creature had somehow drawn the ire of the bird men. I realized this could be our only chance for victory and I siezed the opportunity and rooted him. We beat him down with the help of the birds, but he simply would not die! My spell broke and he resisted all other attempts and like a fat, evil whisper he vanished into thin air and headed for Lake Rathe.
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