[center][color=0072bc][h1]Varen[/h1][/color][/center]

The <<Army>> had established a base of operations in Ascord, aiming to bring a measure of order and security to the frontier. "Yeah right," Varen scoffed as he passed by their main hall. It was an impossible task, undertaken when actually attempting to clear the floors is no longer an option. [color=0072bc]And to think I actually considered joining those losers,[/color] he thought to himself. He remembered that Harrod, a friend of his, had said he wanted to join them. That was a few days ago, and he hasn't heard from him since. The spearman chuckled. At the very least, it'll mean Harrod won't be seeing combat any time soon.

On a secluded street near the market, he opened a window to his inventory, hand tracing through his equipment, resolving that it should be enough to last him a few hours of grinding at least. As he walked towards the southern exit, Veran took time to admire the city's aesthetics, concluding that this wouldn't be a terrible place to live... if it wasn't for it being a dingy war zone and all. He diverged from the dirt pathways leading out from the city. Staying on the road most traveled is just asking for unwanted attention.

[hr]

Of the four monsters that made up the group he had faced in this lone, slightly above average grindspot, it was just the last one that carried the pure red cursor above it. This was definitely an improvement compared to the very first time he arrived in this area; it was a struggle just to kill what he could before the red monsters started to close in on him. Still, this wasn't a time to allow for complacency. The monster's enlarged claw plummeted down to the dirt, pushing up brown dust as Veran narrowly rolled out of the way. He rose quickly enough to position himself and stab his spear where the claws met the hands, the creature shrieking as its HP bar shrank a fair amount and settling at 30% of its maximum. "One more good one ought to do it," Veran said under his breath. Equipping a throwing knife, he waited for an attack on the monster's part to leave it open. Back stepping away, Veran threw the knife which lodged itself in its exposed underbelly. The monster crouched forward in a fit of pain, to which the red haired player lunged at it, ramming the spear's head into the its face, causing the whole of the body to freeze, breaking apart into crystalline shards the second after.

The post battle screen was of little interest to him, although he was nearing his next level, a reminder that he would need to focus on better locations already. His spear at his back, there was no time like the present for getting his feet wet. The depressing soil under his feet gave way to the unique, gloomy grass of the southern fields. This was a popular area to be sure, but the lack of any large, recognizable, mobilizing guild force in Ascord gave him the impression that spots like this should be less crowded. Looking out to the Watchtower, he noticed a small party of three forming. It would be odd for <<Laughing Coffin>> members to loiter outside their main area of influence, but a trap is always possible, even by non affiliated player killers. All the same, Veran was feeling pretty silly for not upgrading his detection skill to longer ranges, not that that would be foolproof either, given the hostile guild may also have green players. [color=0072bc]Guess I just can't win...[/color] he mused, approaching cautiously a few feet. If they looked in his direction, he would neutrally hold his hands up, signifying that he wasn't hostile. He did have a Teleport Crystal, affording him an insurance for this side of the Watchtower.