As Mu’s frustration and angst grew exponentially with each experience in Sosaria, he began to wonder why it was that people remained here.  Was it the horrible, bland, overcooked food?  The opportunity to sit around in tailor shops for days on end?  The low-cost, secure housing availability?  It seemed that the only ones who really thrived in this world were murderers… perhaps they were smiled upon by the mysterious deities which governed this world?  At the end of his rope, Musashi decided to seek the advice of Maraxus’ *ahem* older brother, Maraxus Moor II, who was a murderer many times over and, though similarly disenchanted with life in the boring lands they both called home, strangely languished on.  A war party was formed, and Musashi prepared to venture forth into the unknown to see what sort of fulfillment existed for the hardcore criminal.

Musashi naturally didn’t take to this sort of activity without some pangs of conscience… it is difficult to cut down your fellow man, who probably slaved for hours in tailor shops to purchase decent equipment (Musashi was all too familiar with this phenomenon).  Perhaps one’s feelings about murder become calloused over time, like Mu’s feelings about just about everything have numbed.
Perhaps rationalization is the key… yes, that’s it.  How else would one come across enchanted weapons and armor, or anything desirable for that matter?  For all their power and bluster, most monsters tended to carry with them a small number of gold coins (who knows why) and perhaps a torch.  Anything of any sort of value had to be either taken from dead people, or bought from the vendors of those who had killed them.  Surely this must be as Lord British intended it… Mu kept saying that to himself as the night dragged on.
Combat, naturally, is the bread and butter of the career murderer, and what better opportunity to demonstrate his prowess to Maraxus’ brother than on the passing monsters!  His skill at combat quickly became clear, as Dawnstar rescued him from the crushing blows of a slow ettin.  He was so incredibly pathetic that M. Moor II felt obligated to save him from the marauding wolf at right… Mu had barely managed to draw a weapon by the time the fight was over.
Player killing seemed to be, for the most part, about as boring as… well, just about any activity.  At the presence of a known murderer, most people ran away and recalled immediately, but not this person.  After a short conversation with M. Moor II, during which he introduced himself as "swine and murderer", she was encountered again in the same area, at which time she received a more typical greeting.  She managed to escape as well, after barely surviving the magical onslaught, which Mu was secretly glad about (although he did envy her cloak somewhat).
With the scant few people in the area recalling for the most part, and no squad of anti-murderers (or was it murderers… who could tell the difference in this morally bankrupt world) showing up, it was time to take a little walk into Shame.  Surely this could be where some unfortunates begging for release might be found… certainly everyone seemed to think Musashi was asking for death every time he entered a dungeon.  Dungeons were the marketplace of the higher eschelon of Sosaria, as victims brought their wares every day for the PK’s to peruse.  Musashi had been a vendor here many times… could it be that he might find some bargains from the other side of the arrangement?
Aha, the shop is open!  This fellow has discovered one of the immutable truths of combat against monsters… they cannot figure out how to get around a box.  Indeed, it is said that all one needs to kill nearly any monster in Sosaria is an archery weapon, some ammunition, apprentice-level magery, and some boxes.  This fellow seems well aware of this… from the stack of quarrels which have missed their mark, one might think his archery was somewhat lacking.  However, he was himself able to navigate around obstacles as M. Moor II chased him out of Shame and back to the archery range, by way of a nearby tent and a quick recall.  Another victim away… the sliver of humanity left in Mu secretly rejoiced at this, just as the economist cursed.
Oh well… with no shopping to be done, perhaps some warm-up sparring with the willing inhabitants of this hole in the ground was in order.  You would think that monsters would have moved out by now, or at least learned to build fortifications, as party after party of all sorts of adventurers invaded their homes and sent them to hell every single day.  Perhaps they were animated by the souls of those who had left Sosaria forever, cursed by boredom and constantly seeking death as a means to escape it.  Who knows… they just kept coming…
… and coming…
… and coming.  What brought this gathering on?  Was it that the presence of a vile fiend such as Maraxus Moor II attracts other creatures, hungering to make him one of their own?  More than likely it was the curse of Mu… everyone wants to kill him, all the time.  At this point, considering the lack of victims and the prospects of ending up kissing the dirt from which these denizens sprang, even M. Moor II opted for the sane route of escape before they managed to spill out past the rocks by virtue of overcrowding.  The safety of the outdoors beckoned.
Whoops… why do spawns like these never take place when one is actually seeking monsters?  The gazer visible in this image is merely the vanguard for a force of creatures which included 2 dire wolves, an ogre, an orc mage, 2 ettins, another gazer, and probably a few angry rabbits.  Never before had the words Kal Ort Por seemed so comforting as they did an instant later.  Just as well… not only was this sort of work dangerous, depressing, and didn’t quite sit right with Mu’s conscience, it was less profitable than tailoring.
Back in the home of Maraxus Moor II, Mu sullenly pushed pawns on the chessboard as the career criminal began to drone on drunkenly about his past and Mu’s thoughts began to wander again.  As far as he could tell, being a murderer involved wandering around a lot, occasionally uttering "Uus Jux" or "In Por Ylem" for no reason, initiating combat with someone who almost always ran out of sight as the real attack was being prepared, and then watching them disappear as you found them again.  Only one victim actually fell to the villain’s blade that day, a member of the noted anti-murderer guild the Syndicate (LLTS) whose backup was busy running away, hiding and recalling.  With this trip, all hopes for anything interesting ever happening in this life were dashed, and Musashi began to hear a cryptic voice whispering in his maind, calling out to him with words of arcane power… "You have cancelled your account".


Leave a Reply


© 2009-2019 Howard Collins All Rights Reserved

SEO Powered by Platinum SEO from Techblissonline