A Flowerful Tale

The night was dreary. Everyone was elsewhere. For a while Kyst decided to help her little sister, Trynquet, to level her experience a bit. Even that began to pall and her sister decided to go play with friends. Kyst ported back to her home and tried a little redecorating. Even that, an activity she usually enjoyed, began to bore her.

Looking for excitement, Kyst finally ported to Jordheim, the capital city of Midgard, to visit the gamemaster, Susan. Eventually Kyst tired of giving the critter her gold. With her winnings, several steins, mugs and two boquets of flowers, along with some odds and ends of arulite, she returned to her house and sat by the fountain.

Sitting by the fountain was probably not the best idea to have this night, she thought as she began to remember the battle of death that helped to earn the 23 death blows for the night.

She and her group of eight plus four had traveled to the frontier to find a lost caravan. The caravan and all of its inhabintants had indeed been found without incident. As they returned to Vindsaul Faste after safely delivering th frightened citizens to their village, they incountered the invaded groups of Albion trouble makers. She was glad that they would bother them no more at least for another night, However, it always bothered her to have to take the lives of others.

Flushed, she began to feel guilty for causing so many poor souls to meet their gods in one eve. She looked at her lovely white flowers. An idea began to form under her firey curls.

Going upstairs she dismissed her maid and replaced her focus staff with two boquets of the white flowers, the lovely fragrance filling the room. She teleported to Vindsaul Faste and, without stopping for buffs, again teleported straight to Bledmeer Faste. Bledmeer, she knew, was a favorite hunting ground for the invaders from the lands of Albion and Hibernia.

With a frown on her pert little brow and a determined stride Kyst headed for the bridge that led to the boating docks. Just as she reached the end of the bridge, she ran into a group of Albs. As she knelt before them and presented her flowers, the Albion warmongers mowed her down. As she lay on the ground fuming, unable to move from the viscious spells cast her way, the Alb invaders trampled the pretty white flowers under their boots and headed for the bridge. Kyst released her spirit to Vindsaul Faste where the gods of Midgard repaired her damage and again set her on her journey. Again she ported to Bledmeer.

After two more aborted efforts to bless the Albion invaders with her flowers, she began to reconsider her idea. Just as Kyst reached the end of the bridge she heard through the ether that the Albs were dieing.

"Fine! They don't deserve my beautiful flowers any way!", she thought.

Kyst decided to go to Hibernia and give some youngling there her flowers. Perhaps if she went to Dun Ailinne and gave her flowers to a baby Hib there, he or she would intercede and Kyst would be given her beloved Horn of Valhala. (Well, it was a thought.) A youngling would not be so powerful and Kyst could mezmerize them until she gave them the flowers.

Arriving in Hibernia, she made an uneventful run nearly to Drum Ligen, the great keep where the Hibernians teleported to their frontier. At last she spotted a Hibernian Lady heading her way, an enchantress by the look of the servant with her. Kyst carefully sat down to show she was no threat. She then rose up on one knee and presented her beautiful white flowers to the young lady.

The Hibernian finally spotted her. Kyst could have killed her several times over by the time she was spotted. The Hib attacked and her flaming bolts lit the sky. Kyst dropped fast, never once being able to give her flowers to the enchantress.

As she lay on the ground a bouquet of flowers in each hand, she saw the enchantress approaching. She looked at Kyst, bewildered by what she considered unfathomable behavior, and scratched her head.

She went a bit further and attacked the mobs that were apparently part of a quest she was on. That done she and her servant returned to Kyst. She stopped and stared at the runemaster laying in the grass with her flowers.

She hesitated a moment longer and then knelt at Kyst's side. Ajenda, for that was her name, plucked a bloom from one of Kyst's bouquets and looked at it carefully finally smelling the sweet frangrance.

Rising she looked at Kyst a moment longer. Finally, she curtseyed deeply and blew a kiss to the fallen runemaster and ran off in the direction of Drum Ligen.

Satisfied that her mission was a success, Kyst visualized her portal stone and returned to her beloved Midgard.