splinterself: (Default)
Dirk Strider | timaeusTestified ([personal profile] splinterself) wrote in [community profile] algagrass 2012-06-25 01:26 am (UTC)

Seriously. There goes the NPC with his rumors like always, the same old tales and hints to tell. Every day had been same, since the morning that he came to this poor, provincial game. At least up until recently. The elbow had gotten a slightly raised eyebrow but no other reaction.

"Can't be too new; according to that one person I mentioned it's existed for a few months." There was an emphasis on the plural. "She made it to level 12." He left a pause to be properly horrified in. "I know."

The place they were headed was a small out of the way joint, one which radiated little charm. It was the sort of building which was built because the NPCs had somehow, just somehow, realized that they could potentially make more money selling drinks in a venue which wasn't just a stall. It wasn't a rat trap, per se - it's not like there were proper rat traps anywhere in Mac Anu. But it was a very half assed sort of place.

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