The day has come...the world is ending...the servers are shutting down. Yggdrasil has come to an end. The The De Ordine Imperii has come to an end at last after so many years of fighting, and dying by each others side so many times over. Through years this guild has lost friends, and gained new ones. Fought for each other, and died by their creed. Mors Inimicos Nostros...that was the rallying cry of Doux as he created the guild. Players, NPCs, and all assorted raids it didn't matter! The world of Yggdrasil was not going to crush them! Together they struggled! It was the experience of their brotherhood that the people of the guild found their strength to keep going! Real world distractions, and struggles put to the side for the sake of completing the next big raid! The next grind!

...But now even the last Guild Master...their Basileus...MaxUltra has vanished unable to come online one last time. And thus the duty of closing up shop has fallen onto Greyedout senior officer to the group. As the world begins to end he has put their soldiers in their place, the npcs to guard their stations, and has welcomed back old players, and new to celebrate their journey that is now coming to an end. Max wanted a big party. A party to show off how great everyone was for their troubles. But Grey had decided not to stop just right there. He invited everyone who wished to come to Arce Bellum as guests to spend time with like minded individuals. It was an ending to things he may as well share the joys of it with others. Some guilds probably were having secluded parties but The De Ordine Imperri was build on the trust that all players could fight together. And so at least this way they won't need to have their avatars 'die' alone.

Grey himself sat in the grand hall where the party was being hosted by the maids, and butlers of the group. Doux initially had something more roman in mind but the third guild leader TimelessOcelot had the design changed as not everyone was so gun-ho about the overtly Roman/Greek design aesthetics of the first guild leader. Grey Beard helped design the characters here for the most part. Well shielded in dwarven silver armors, and thick steel. The grand wide white hallway housed large tables, strange paintings, and various decorative fakes of weapons stored in the guild's depths. The guild bank had received large donations from its player base when the announcement to close the servers was sent out. Many players quit, and the guild rank plummeted. Now as he looked around he saw the beautiful face of his NPC Yuna playing in the corner in her armor. She was playing music along with a few dozen soldiers from one of the OST themes.



Yuna was his first NPC he made...and he'd miss her. She was useful in combat, and being a Templar she fared well with magical weapons, and items. Able to use many sorts of magics she proved invaluable to him. The head butler Marcus was set on a routine to fetch food, and the like. He was made by TwelveFingeredSaint who he remembered as one of Greybeard's old friends. Grey Beard was more than just a founder he was a man everyone loved. A great roleplayer, and a greater story teller he was only matched in those regards as a great friend. Grey hoped he would meet him again some day but he had lost contact with him outside.

Looking down at his armor he sighed he'd never see this glorious white steel again. This gold trim, and the strong features. It had served him unspeakably well in his duty as tank for raids. He wanted to do this one last time. He sighed but did not look sad as BigArmedBillster, a male human War Mage, looked over to him and smiled. He was one of the newer recruits but he was one of the few who actually showed up. "You know Grey....I'm really going to miss all of this. Hanging out with you, and the others...it was a dream. But like all things it has to come to an end right?" the young man said as Grey nodded back at him as he looked down on his plate and ate a bit of the food in front of him. It was a formality but he'd like to roleplay...after all it was still a party. "Not all things...but some will inevitably. I just wish we had more time..." Grey replied with a smile and a nod towards Bill.

There were a few other guild mates wandering around saying their goodbyes. But some of them were logging off after finishing them. Apparently some were having second thoughts now or something needed their attention. According to Comradechannel, one of the older guild mates, BorntoBeBad couldn't arrive work needed his attention apparently. It saddened him but at the same time having one of the few people here who achieved the wizard rank of World Disaster would be a bit intimidating to some people. Especially since he was one of the founders, and a renown player. Their best wizard for the longest time...He wondered if anyone was off training with the guys in the duel arena, or wandering around inspecting the npcs? Most people seemed to be here in the halls...he'd hate to miss people but if they wanted to look around they were free too...under limits even now certain areas were restricted to non-guild members like the throne room, and treasure rooms. It was also set so that no players may take items that were not designated as ok by Grey. This wasn't a raid after all but the white heart of their guild...

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(for purposes of putting a picture to words imagine something like this)
https://thumbs.dreamstime.com/z/white-ballroom-nottoway-plantation-house-castle-usa-july-inside-famous-castle-usa-s-said-was-42520675.jpg

The last, fading rays of the sun painted the sky in glory as Ruin coasted through a sea of clouds, the vapour curling away from her glorious and gently-glowing wings. Say what you like about the new hyper-real engines being used in the latest generation of games, Yggdrasil’s had stood the test of time well. Very well indeed, actually. Great barques of cloud blazed crimson with the light of the setting sun, moving with ponderous grace, and, off to the horizon, they darkened into the rich, dusky purple of twilight. Lambent sunlight glittered off the elaborate filigree ornamentation her armoured shell bore across every centimetre of its lustrious surface, golden decorations drawing the eye with every glitter and glow, turning her into a second sun through reflected glory.

Hovering effortlessly, high in the empyrean, Ruin drank it in one last time. There would be other games, other views, but Yggdrasil had been special, and she wanted to burn the memory into her brain. The very brightest stars were just beginning to glimmer into existence as the heavenly Seraph that was her vessel finally banked into a gentle curve, descending in lazy spirals through the glorious final sunset. As she came lower, the sea of clouds parted, revealing the great sweep of the landscape, dotted with tidy farms, bucolic villages, forests and lakes and mysterious ruins.

Most imposing of all, however, and her current destination, were the slender white spires and domes of the Arce Bellum. Immaculate and impressive – so many guild strongholds and old havens for the Sephirot had fallen into disrepair and decay as Yggdrasil aged and withered – and towering over the surrounding lands, it was a testament to the loyalty of its guildmembers through thick and thin. De Ordine Imperii – the Empire of Order – had been one of the first guilds founded, and longevity carried a weight and a respect all of its own. Oh, it had waxed and waned with the tides and seasons, but it had always been there, its brave knights and doughty clerics frequent allies to the Sephirot across many a raid instance and Guild conflict.

Very typical – and admirable – of them to throw their guild party open to everyone. Ruin had spent much of the day, one of her precious morsels of annual leave, revisiting old haunts and old memories, reliving past glories and triumphs, but with the sun low in the west and the time of shutdown drawing near, she felt the need to connect one last time with at least a handful of players, the scant few dedicated – devoted – enough to see the world through to its end.

Gold rang against marble as she touched down, her armoured form gleaming in the abundant light even as she moved with purpose between the twin lines of NPC guards, resplendent in their ornate silver plate. The palace’s imposing double doors were her destination, thrown open for the last party. She did not bother to greet the guild-bound soldiers, just this once; she was here for the real people, this time, and her map pinged a small collection of players up ahead, the air filling with the sound of clinking glasses and the low hum of background conversation as she entered the grand hall. Not much time left, but enough.

Ruin took a moment to drink in the sight, even as the master of ceremonies at the door announced her to the room, in what would have been boomingly stentorian tones. “Morningstar of the Sephirot!”

A splendid setting, if a little modish to her tastes, a little more restrained than her own favoured Belle Epoque, forming the impressive backdrop to a panoply of players rarely seen in one place. Many were guildmembers, of course, looking heroic and youthful and bedecked for the occasion with their finest items, but there were also a scattering of independents. Even a few undead-type players, looking almost comically out of place.

Unthinkable, save for the end of the world.

A faint frisson of shock crackled its electric way up and down her spine as she realized there was only one whom she so much as recognized – Greyedout, or - to be polite and proper - Lord Grey, looking pensive and mechanically eating the sumptuous feast spread before them all on the groaning tables.

Surely it hadn’t been that long since her last visit to the Arce Bellum? Apparently so – the calendar didn’t lie, and the evidence lay before her eyes.

“Good of you to open the doors to us few remaining independents, m’lord,” she said, drawing closer to the paladin. “It’s nice to see the fruits of everyone’s endeavours.” A pause, and a smile emoji hanging in the air between them, Morningstar’s Masque remaining as impassively serene as it always did. Left unsaid was the bitter knowledge that, all too soon, it would be wiped away as if it had never been, a summer mirage living on only in memory.

“Including yours.” Another pause, this one slightly more awkward, and longer. “Is His Majesty not joining the wake?” she asked delicately, unable to find his name in the lists.

Not that that meant he wasn’t present, perhaps just in an area that she, as a non-guildmember, couldn’t see.

Sev walked through the empty halls of his own guild, only silence emanating from inside. His guild hall had been founded awhile back, in a deep dark cave of all places. It had once been a dungeon that TinyTina1, the Fourth Scythe had cleared out a long time ago. TinyTina1 always did have a knack for PVE and enjoyed it more then PVP. He didn't blame her, PVP was hard, especially with all of of those min-maxer's out there. Didn't help that they were a heteromorphic guild either, so being targeted was just another day. But that was all past now. No, now he wandered around his old base, killing NPC's and deleting all of the loot they had gathered over the years.

Why keep anything if the game was shutting down? Sure it was painful, and most of the items were of sentimental value, but it wasn't like he would ever need them again. Or see them again for that matter. All of which he destroyed would only now reside in his mind, the only thing he would keep from YGGDRASIL. Sev didn't really mind either, wasn't like any of his guild mates had decided to come on and see the shutdown with him. Perhaps one of them could have talked some sense in him, but Sev was always known as somewhat unorthodox. Eventually his rampage brought him to his room, the Guild master's quarters. Sev held his hand to the door, he knew what resided within but he hesitated. Destroying his guild mate's stuff was a given, none of them were here, but his own? Sev found himself unwilling to even enter the room. He would only be reminded again what once was, and she was in there as well. The only NPC he had ever made, molded after an individual he would also never see again. In YGGDRASIL, or real life. It was still too painful for him. Sev pulled away from the door knob, and rested his boney hand on the door itself.

He whispered softly, "Goodbye, my dear." His hand slowly left the door, and Sev wandered on. There was a few more places to visit and destroy.



After another hour or so, with the YGGDRASIL'S clock counting down, Sev left his cave behind and took to the skies for the last time. His Scythe was safely put away in his inventory, as well as a few choice items and his gear of course. He didn't really need anything else. So he flew over the familiar landscapes that he knew intimately. He saw no other players, only the NPCS in their eternal bliss. They would never have to know what it felt like to end, they just simply stopped or ceased to be. Odd really once you thought about it. Sev would have liked to be an NPC, it would have been much better to cease then go back to reality. If there was a way to keep the server's on Sev would have tried, even pleaded to do so. His experiences in YGGDRASIL had their ups and downs, but he wouldn't trade it for another game. Not a chance, but he kept on flying, because everything ends no matter what.

Eventually Sev landed in front of an old enemy- The Empire of Order. One of those "Normal Race" loving factions. It was a fancy place, too much for his taste, but being an old guild did have its perks. He was also fairly sure that he had personally killed at least a couple of their members. But being the last day of the server, bygones were bygones right? Sev was really only here because none of his old guild mates were online, or friends for that matter and the fact that there would be people here was tempting. So he arrived, and didn't bother disguising himself either. He was heteromorphic, and god damn he would be proud.

He walked into the grand building, like an inky dot on a pristine surface. He stood out to be sure, but he held his head high. He entered the grand chamber, where other players were gathering and comically, he was announced.

"LMAOLORDXXX of the Seven Scythes."

If his avatar could smile, he would have a grin ear from ear. Such a great name his was. Sev eyed the room, saw a few players, mostly humans and other guild members of the Empire. He saw a few of his own kind, but what really caught his eye was the Morningstar. One of those really strict roleplayers, and an Angel to boot. God did he hate Angels, with their sense of duty and other biblical shit. His guild had a few run ins with their members, it was always a grand time to be sure. At the moment she was busy talking to some dude in a chair, he looked fairly important, probably a high up Empire member.

Sev shrugged them off, and went about to a chair off in the corner. Sure it was nice to be in the presence of other players, but no one said he had to talk to them. They just weren't his own.

Seated across the table from the warmage and the paladin GreyedOut, was a hirsuite humanlike PC in khaki dusters rapidly tapping his fingers on an invisible screen in front of him. Knowing that many of De Ordine Imperii were roleplayers, he mandatorily took a few bites of his virtual food every now and then to satisfy an unspoken quota of roleplaying. ReidyForPleasure as his avatar was known, was a recognized information broker who had a considerably large amount of people in his friend list - many of whom were customers and even more, were heteromorph players he had helped over the course of the game.

But today, he was not selling them some rumor of a rare monster or a walkthrough of some hidden raid quest ...No. Today, he was sending each of them a map and a Scroll of Recall free of charge, inviting them to gather before the end of this world as they knew it one last time and celebrate all the times they had spent together in this game.



32/4027 online. Not even 1%. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed...

"Morningstar of the Sephirot!"

Reidy looked up from his menu screen to the source of the clamourous voice, then raised his hands forming a rectangle with his fingers with the angel framed right in the middle and the marble gates glowing behind her. An audible 'click!' was heard. Not everyday you see something like that.

"You know what?" Exasperated. The man threw his hands on the table, standing up to the length of his height as his knees slid the virtual chair back.

"We should do a group selfie together! Everyone. One last time. Posing your bests just as the servers down, let's make something to remember Yggdrasil by!" Reidy hollered out putting on his cheery mask as usual as he waved a scroll of contingency that manifested in his open hand, it could take a series of aerial screenshots on a timer.

"...right there." By the band where Yuna was playing, a big enough space and well decorated to boot.



"Come on!" He would clap on Greyedout's pauldrons while pulling Billster out from his chair as he made his own way there. Passing the angel, 'Might as well!' he mused and would try to drag her hand along too.

In fact, he would ask for everyone around to join in as they looked his way with a series of waves and enthusiastic words. Going even as far as to personally chauffer them over if they seemed shy, especially the bony undead who just walked in. Reidy was certain this was not the first time he had seen that avatar. Sure, it was mentally tiring to put up such an excitable persona but it was well worth it. Afterall, he did not want to face the end of the world alone and these were the ones he would rather remember Yggdrasil by.

The ones who stayed till the very end.

When the beautiful angel class whom he knew as a woman called Ruin from a former friendly guild entered the hall he wondered what he would
"You're talking about MaxUltra correct? He had to take care of his wife today. She was not feeling well. With her medical conditions Max had to be the hero elsewhere I'm afraid. He wishes you all a great life though and he hopes to keep in touch if possible." Grey said as he raised his chalice of mead and took a drink. Well brewed fresh dwarven mead made by Greybeard's crew almost six Christmas seasons ago. "I'm sorry Ruin but it is just us today." Grey told his old friend with a nod. He looked over his messages and he clicked through the goodbyes reading them briefly before turning back to Bill who smiled at the angel. "Wow I've heard of Sephirot you guys were good. Too bad about what happened too you guys. I heard rumors about a guild of Vampire Edgelords stealing a few of your wins in that world tournament way back." Billster said to Ruin as he checked around and a bulky fellow by the name of Painful Manfulness approached in large black armor plate. "HEY NICE OF YOU GUYS TO MAKE IT!" commented Painful as he bashed his hand against his plate. Painful was the current crew's main tank. His most famous exploit was soloing a boss fight after a terrible set of luck left most of his party defeated. In that fight he survived wave after wave of men using just his massive axe.

"And look even the spooky scary skeleton crew have decided to join us! Not often we see a bones man outside Born! Let Arce Bellum forever show that we were GREATNESS INCARNATE!....Oh boy I'm hamming this up way too much..." he said suddenly losing his bluster with a big laugh as Seven Scythes entered the room. He looked over to him and waved. Grey acknowledged him but kept his drinking up. He didn't think much of it as Bill, and Painful talked back and forth about the last raid they went on together with Painful playfully making fun of when Bill got pegged, and taken out by an arrow from an enemy sniper class.

When Grey got slapped on the shoulder he sighed as mead spewed out of the cup onto his armor he grumbled and called over Marcus who wiped him down after a few commands and was sent back to his duty. "I suppose somethings never will change huh? Even when the servers are shutting down." as Bill was man handled pitifully Painful laughed and agreed saying it was a good idea. "You-you want a screenshot? I guess but will we all fit?" Bill asked pitifully as he was dragged over more or less. "I mean if it is fine with you guys I'll do it...I don't like that sentimental stuff though. That's the sort of things old farts do when they want to remember what they did before breakfast tomorrow." Grey said cynically as he ate a large mutton chunk.

"You-you want a screenshot? I guess but will we all fit?"

"I'll make it fit!" Replied Reidy to Billster, no lack of confidence coming from the Artificer. As he continued pulling the more armored warmage into place.

"I mean if it is fine with you guys I'll do it...I don't like that sentimental stuff though. That's the sort of things old farts do when they want to remember what they did before breakfast tomorrow."

"Hey, if I'm going to have breakfast with any old farts. It'd be you old farts I'd have it with." Reidy said solemnly at first then burst out into laughter at the end.

Too bad he could not control the NPCs or he would have them be in the background too. Billster was right, glancing at some of the just arrivals, there were some PUFFY avatars out there.

Going solo for so long really made it tricky to get back into parties. Something about it... It wasn't wrong, but maybe a tad to formal? In truth, she didn't really have much else to do this day. She had work off after all. She'd figured that she'd have spent the last day of Yggdrasil working, but instead management decided that she wasn't needed for once, and that alone was more than enough reason for Astrid to kill the last few hours of the online game. Mostly in making sure that when she finally left, she had a last selection of solid duels under her belt. Plenty of other players seemed to feel the same way. From newbies who never got the chance to go PVP for real, or even more advanced players who just focused on PVE, or players like her. Who just wanted one last match to end it on. Except...

WINNER!
Again, she won. She loved it. The rush, the action. But this time? No. This wasn't fun anymore. "Okay, I think I can beat you this time." The player before her was at least 10 levels under her, and his class was a wizard. Astrid wasn't sure what guild he was a part of, but just watching him get back up after his fifth loss in the arena had lost its appeal. "Come on, one more try!" He said, waggling his finger. "I spent ages with my buddies mastering this spell."
"Well, Reginald Mcbutters the Archduke of Florence..." Astrid said, taking his hand in her own, and then pushing him right back. "I'm not sure you can keep doing this. After all... You're boring me. You don't actually have a strategy to win, do you?"
"Well I-"
"I thought so. Look, the crowds are thinning, and I'd like to fight somebody worth it before the servers go offline." Sadly, it was true. At the start of the day the amount of players in the arena of her brother's guild must have been at least a hundred plus. Now as the night was ticking by more and more logged off. Going to bed, or just bored of losing. Astrid still didn't have the fight she craved most though. All these people, she'd never see them again after the night. But there was one, who she knew without a doubt she'd be seeing for dinner when mom and dad wanted to get the family back together. She needed one more win against Grey.

_____________________________***___________

Astrid stepped into the main hall, and actually had to pause to take it all in one last time. Yeah she got kicked out, but that was because of her desire to use a Witchblade. Naturally the guild was a bit stricter back in the old days, but hey, those days were gone. Truth be told, she missed it, just a little. After all, that kinda roleplay really did make a scene pop. They actually got somebody to play a judge, and she stood trial. Heck, she even added in a whole thing about how the blade had stolen her morals. Good times. She even ended up leaving with a winky face. How wicked was that? Very.
She scanned the area, eyes drifting through the very small crowd. And then, she spotted him. GREY! The witchblade moved closer, a hand raised to wave, and then... She felt a hand on her shoulder. Before Reidy could pull his hand away, Astrid had wrapped her fingers around his wrist, glaring daggers into the other player. "I like a party as much as the next guy, but I just got out of the arena. At least let me equip into something less combat-ish before you go inviting me over to take a photo, okay?" A moment was all it took for her armor, sword, and such to vanish into her inventory, leaving Astrid in a shockingly impressive dress. Something rather witchy, and very crowy.
Releasing her grip on Reidy, she made her way directly to the collected others. After all, they had stuff to do.

"Greeeeeey." Astrid whined, resting her arms on one of the comfiest chairs. "Brooooother, you've been avoiding me all night." She teased, adding just a little moan to what she had to say. As if flirting with her sibling. "Now, why don't you stop wasting time with others and come to the duel arena. I know you prefer PVE, but I need to make sure Mom and Dad know I'm the better sibling, so you better face me. Got it?"

Interactions with:
@Spiritzer - Grabbed his arm.
@vancexentan - Wants to fight.

Ruin winced, the icon burning lurid orange between her and Grey. “Yes, I mean Max. Guess there’s not much point in roleplaying now, of all times.” A faint sigh, swallowed by the empty room in the real world. “I’m sorry to hear about his wife. I didn’t know him – outside the game, that is – but he was a good player. And a good roleplayer, too. Please, pass on my best to them both. If I ever find him in another game, it’d be my pleasure to play with him again. The same goes for you as well.”

Her attention was drawn, then, by one of the other players, another high-up in the Empire, a human with the sort of face that people described as ‘craggy’, or possibly ‘weathered’. Bulking large in splendid robes and plate, he was an imposing sight. BigArmedBillster, the tooltip handily told her, although shamefully she’d forgotten, for the moment, his character name. Or perhaps had never known it; she couldn’t recall having played with him before. He clearly knew exactly who she was, though, and something of the storied history of the Sephirot.

“Ha!” In the real world, Ruin’s lips twitched upwards in an involuntary smile, remembering the incidents, even as her avatar remained serenely passive. “Yes, I remember that.” At the time, being pipped to the win had been incredibly frustrating – and costly - but now…

“Personally, I think they were particularly sore losers.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “We did flood their base of operations with holy water, after all. I’d wanted to use holy syrup, but we had a narrow window of opportunity and I didn’t manage to modify an Infinite Flask in time.” A shrug and a laugh. “Still worth it to see their sallow undead faces, particularly since the lake is still there. I went back earlier,” she explained. Doubtless many other players had been doing their own nostalgia tours in the final days and hours of the game. It had been oddly gratifying to see the sparkling waters of a sanctified lake gleaming in the sunlight, where once a sprawling vampiric lair had blighted the land.

She half-turned at the announcement of the Seven Scythes, a group that had been a thorn – more than a thorn, if she was being truthful; some of the clashes had been legendary - in the side of the Sephirot more than once in the past, almost diametrically opposed in their outlook. Quietly, she thanked the fact that her avatar couldn’t mimic facial expressions. Not that she really held much of a grudge, not now, but the death-and-decay fetish of the undead races had always faintly offended her sensibilities. There was just something slightly unsettlingly morbid about playing a corruption-riddled skeleton.

Still, there were probably people who detested the style of the angels, too, and there was no point in being antagonistic now.

He didn’t seem particularly social, casting an empty-eyed gaze across the room before making a beeline for one of the peripheral chairs, but before she – or anyone else – could offer more than the most perfunctory of greetings, Hurricane Reidy hit. It was a surprise to be grabbed so cavalierly, but this was a guildhall and the last hour to boot; Ruin let herself go the flow in a whirl of wings.

It was even a good idea, a screenshot preserving them forever – or as forever as digital media could get, anyway.

“You might regret it later if you don’t,” she called to Grey. “When you become an ‘old fart’-” the inverted commas dropped neatly around the phrase “-a picture helps keep the memories bright.” Turning towards Reidy – known to her group, of course, as he was to most heteromorph groups of any real longevity; information was power and he’d traded heavily in it – she added: “If you could send me a copy, I’d be grateful.”

"How about I refuse just because I know you will never get the satisfaction of saying you actually beat me in singles combat? That seems like a good way to spend the next....couple minutes or so before shut down. Besides it'll take time for me to even get out half my buffs before the admins shut us down." Grey told his sister after she promptly burst into the hall. Of all the people to come back he didn't expect her but he couldn't say he was going to let her drag him away from his friends. A lot of them, including the usually chill MaxUltra, were hesitant to allow her back in to Arce Bellum without sending the npc's after her. She left on her own choice but that ruffled the feathers of some of the heavy roleplayers. "You just have to have the last words when it comes to a fight huh? Well not this time anyways for once you will have to accept that this is an end to things. If mom likes you better than so be it. The uncles love me I know that for sure." Grey said lazily as he tapped the buttons on his menu as Yuna got up and walked over to him alongside Marcus, and a few of the guards.

Claudius was down at the arena, and Hardin Sunderland, The Grand Patriarch of Arce Bellum, was in depths of the dungeons as he usually was. The key NPCs scattered about meant that it would take undue time for them to all come running for such a small thing. So as such he decided if there was truly a picture worthy moment it would need some active members of the party like his own Yuna. Marcus would have to live with his existence being foiled for the moment. With Yuna wandering over she still had her usual smile plastered on her face after putting her instrument down the crew was set to another ost for the time being. "The day I regret the chance to piss in my sister's cereal is a day I am in a grave ten feet underground. It's a brother's duty to do so. Besides Doux isn't her to tell her off so I'll let her complain some more if she desires." Grey said as he positioned himself next to Yuna pulling out his blade he placed the Grand Sword of the Throne on the floor in front of him. Putting his spare hand on the shoulder of his first NPC. How many years was it since he first made her? She represented a time when things were simpler for him. That was why he favored her so much in comparison to Marcus who bowed and took his own place for the picture shot. "If you intend to take the screenshot do it." Grey told the man.

Sev was simply minding his business when the talk of taking a screenshot erupted across the room. There had never really been much use for taking screenshots in YGGDRASIL, with it being so advanced for its time. Basically being inside the game itself was enough of a mental picture that Sev never took any. Though he did have one, a secret of his to be sure. A happy memory of a time long since gone. So as soon as the player called ReidyForPleasure, started to chauffeur people to the area, Sev declined.

With a angry emote Sev said, "Not my cup of tea. Even if this is the end of the game, I'd rather not be seen standing side by side with other people." He paused then whispered, "If you get my drift." Sev then backed up and walked to a new chair, away from where the screenshot was to take place.

Sure he didn't want his final minutes to be spent in a corner, but there was really nothing else to be done, and there was no way in hell he would take a screenshot with roleplayers. Especially a guild orientated around humans and the "goody" races. He crossed his arms, still, there wasn't much elsewhere to be either. He could go to one of his favorite places, but it was far too late now and he doubted there would be any other players in attendance. No, he would stick around here until the end, if not for his own pleasure, then just to spite the Order.

Sev then heard a comment about a boney man, which he could only assume was him. It only strengthened his resolve to not be in a screenshot with these people. If Sec could roll his eyes he would be doing so, but for now he turned his attention back to the main entrance to see if anyone else would be showing up. Maybe a long lost friend? Maybe an enemy? But Sev was surely disappointed when the only person to come through the door was a woman, and she was a Witchblade to boot.

Call it innate jealousy, or downright dislike, but he never could stand Witchblades. They always came off as try-hards, and really the first one hundred people to beat a boss gets it? Lot of outrage over that one, because the boss simply became irrelevant after the fact. Now Sev didn't like them due to their play style and the pain in the ass they are to try and kill. If you couldn't get the jump on them then it was game over. But what was the point in caring anymore? She was probably the only Witchblade to even be on, good for her.

With that, Sev went back to looking at the clock, as it counted up to the inevitable final moments of YGGDRASIL.

Kharne sighed as he looked up at the increasingly darkening sky. He had decided to take the day off from work just to log into YGGDRASIL in its final day. His feet carried him to the various lands he had explored in the game and his higher level granted him free passage through all but the undead oriented lands. How long ago did I look at all this with fresh eyes? He asked himself as he drifted through the low level lands. He had been sly enough to avoid the player killers who lurked, trying to pick off the races they hated. Later he had been tough enough to weather their storms until they had nothing left before he just destroyed them. Or they got a much stronger tank buster.

He had read the announcement earlier in the day that one of the oldest guilds would be holding a party and everyone was invited. He had avoided it until the final half hour since he wasn't particularly comfortable around a pure good mostly human guild. Approaching the building he regarded it with some distaste, it was too white and gold. "Pure" colors but put together was to bright and gaudy. Don't bash people for their tastes. The 'evil' guilds use black and purple a lot... He thought as he stepped through the entrance.

His presence was annoyingly announced. "Kazemitsu, Kharne". Was that a setting the guild put in place? What happened if multiple people entered at once? Whatever. Things were in full swing it seemed. People were eating and drinking and partying it up. Someone was talking about taking a screen shot of people all together and seemed to be dragging others over to a spot. When approached he shook his head. "No thanks. It should be with your friends and guildies, not some random." He said while shifting away from the spot.

Watching with mild amusement he found a seat and sat sideways. The chairs weren't built with tails in mind. At least the final moments of the game would be cheerful and among nice people and not just duking it out in some wasteland. Subconsciously he watched the countdown in the hud while everyone got ready for their screen shot.

Reidy gave her a thumbs up emoticon to her request, since Ruin was always so formal and true to her in-character personality it was nice to see her loosen up abit. Even if she still spoke in an unidentifiable accent, at least she was not currently berating him about in-game morals and how one pure of heart should not lie. Reidy lied, a lot, of course he did.

"Goes without saying!" Then he glanced at the entrance. "BRB!" He cheered. Leaving Ruin to chat with her other old friends in De Ordine, he was never one comfortable enough to bring real life topics into the game.



---------

"Phe-" Reidy tried to whistle after Astrid changed her dress butit just came out as a garble from wind hitting the microphone. For someone who 'did not care about looks' from what he heard - she sure picked one heck of a dress today.

"Can't you like just ...challenge him to chess or something? World's ending soon and ---" His exasperated tone turned into an eureka moment. "You know what?"

"Nevermind. If you want to fight, do it in front of the camera! If you do win, that'll be even better than just you saying it without any evidence, right?"

At that moment several more scrolls of contingency flashed into Reidy's hands and pasted themselves on the other side of the hall with the use of the Minor Kinesis skill. Then he went off to entertain the other guest, a particularly grim one.

Honestly though. All he wanted was something memorable to go by. Something EPIC. Something to put on his brokering website that would make all who did not turn up today regret not being a part of all this in the game's last hour.

Dying stars shine the brightest, don't they?



------------

He watched as the skeleton "walked" away, eventually there would be someone like that. Not that it was not normal. Should he attempt to pursue the matter? Nah. The game clearly meant a lot to everyone here and they were all dealing with it in their own way, himself included.

Still.

Reidy raised his hands in a rectangle again, looking through them as he saw the wraith's name. "You made the effort to come all the way here in a Human city when you could have been anywhere else, I don't believe you truly want to end this alone. Neither did I, that's why I'm here." He said soberly.

Then he turned around going back to the group, but not before glancing at the undead one last time with a '/mug toast' ecomotion, "You're more than welcome to photobomb us at the last moment, Seven." Then off he went.



"I don't have guildies. And at this hour, look around you!" Reidy just casually gestured to the dwindling players in the hall, nay, the entire world. "Come on. Even if we did not know each other previously, I want to remember your face. Who knows? We might even meet by chance in the future and it'll be nice to remenisce this day. "

Cheerful as he seemed to be, Reidy was still cautious enough not to be pushy when it came to people he did not know, it might scare them away. Plus, this one - He seemed like the good sort, if not a little introverted. If the lizardman could come, everything would be peachy. If not, well - "I really want you to meet everyone, they're a good bunch and I bet you'd fit right in -" With that he flung his arms in an inviting manner sideways, gesturing that he was most welcome to be part of "with The Last Party."

Though only to see the demihuman walk away to a nearby corner, he frowned in the real world ever so slightly.



-------

"Now ...Angel-san if you've got it," He strutted a dramatic pose towards RuinInrRed, flicking his open hands to his side and tilting up his chin in a vigorous movement just like the the model cover in the July guidebooks, "...FLAUNT IT!" It looked weird when done by someone without wings.

"Work that shiny armor too, Grey!" Reidy ran his fingers down his sides, showing off his own imaginary suit of armor and all it's glory.

Then like a dancer who just finished her routine, he snapped his fingers, promptly shuffling into his own pose and leaving the cameras to go off in 10 seconds.

10.

9.

8.

7.

Ruin eyed Reidy's antics with a mixed bag of amusement and irritation. There was a reason she'd generally left the Sephirot's dealings with him to Binah or Netzah – he'd managed, somehow, to weaponise cheerfulness, combining it with a cheerful disregard for personal space into an altogether unsettling experience that sat uneasily with her. Particularly since, given his self-appointed cause, that simply couldn't be all there was to him. He'd have lasted five minutes, at best.

Surely.

So of course she'd struck back. He was a valuable player – certainly too valuable to PK – and thus her recourse had been to a litany of roleplayed rebuke, playing on the burning simplicity of a righteous angel with little patience for – or understanding of – the shades of grey of the real world. Shades into which Reidy was deeply dipped in the pursuit of his goals, a character made grubby by the metaphysical taint of a thousand shabby deals and scandal-dripping secret accords.

Small wonder, then, that in happier times the other members of the Sephirot had been quick to take up the task of dealing with him – and on the few occasions thereafter when their paths had crossed, the old routine was a comfortable and familiar thing.

That said, though, he wasn't being grumpy or just plain antisocial, which put him ahead of at least some of the players present. Why, exactly, you'd make your way to a player gathering in the last precious minutes of the world and then proceed to spend it grumbling in the corner or shunning other people was a mystery, and one she didn't particularly care to solve.

“I'm not a pinup model,” she protested, and sent a hot-eyed glare flashing at him, red and furious. “And if I find you've turned me into one, I'll come after you with a pair of rusty cleavers. Somehow.”

Even so, the others – and a few favoured NPCs - were getting into such poses as took their own fancies. Not wishing to be left out, or worse, obscured as a mere flash of wing at the back, she rose slightly into the air, behind and above the others, using a few of the purely visual cantrips to send golden light glimmering along the edges of her eight outstretched wings and bringing her intricate halo into better and brighter view. Arms half-stretched out to either side, facing resolutely forward, into the camera and the future, she waited out the long seconds of the contingency, counting down the precious time.

It was important, she felt, in some odd and ill-defined way, to have a record of such moments as this.

At the end, a flash of light released her – and the others – from the varied panoply of poses, and the distinctive ping of something landing in her inventory, more than likely the copy she'd asked for, quickly followed. Casting a glance at the timer on her HUD, she blanched – there wasn't long at all remaining. To any of them.

'I wonder if there'll be fireworks,' came the sudden thought, unbidden. It amused her, and with a smile curving her real lips she asked Grey. “Will there be fireworks? It's not a proper send-off without fireworks.”

"I'm a paladin not a fashion model just take the bloody shot." Grey grumbled as he awaited for the screen shot to be taken. He stood in the same position that he had earlier. As he looked at the timer wind down in the corner of his HUD. He sighed, and put his blade back into its sheathe. Looking at his model, and the armor on it he remembered fondly the better times. All that would end soon...but maybe new opportunities would arise. Maybe this would be the motivator to actually kick himself in the ass in real life, and do something with it. Still real life could never measure up to this. His friends, and pseudo-family were all in this game...and actual family too apparently. He saw the edgey guy wander over to some corner of the hall. Not that it mattered the system was locked from messing with things around here, and even if he did it wasn't like it would matter. If he wanted to waste their chance to socialize, and look through things in favor of being a loser in the corner of the most shiny white place this side of Yggdrasil that wasn't his problem. "I was just about to consider going back to the throne room, and sit down there. This place is shiny but it lacks flair. If you want fireworks cast some spells...outside of course burning down the castle is something i'd prefer not to see even in its last moments." Grey said passing off the angel's words as Bill, and Painful said their goodbyes logging off saying they're never forget their time here.

Ruin frowned lightly at Grey. Perhaps he was a bit out of sorts; everyone posed for a photograph. Even if it was only to smile brightly. “I thought the whole point of this get-together was to be with other players at the end of the world? I'm not a guildmember; given the current settings I couldn't follow you to the throne room if I wanted to – and, looking around...” a casual flick of her fingers brought up both the local and global player lists, both of them slowly ticking down as more and more players called it a final night. “...it seems that most of your fellow guildmates have already gone, and more are going by the second.” A shrug and an elegant resorting of ruffled wings.

“Still, if you do wish to be alone and reminisce on the glories of your guild, then far be it for me – or anyone else – to stop you. I'll simply take the opportunity now and wish good luck to you in your future endeavours.” A little half-bow – ridiculous formality to many, perhaps, but Ruin had always liked a certain degree of formality. “It's been fun, Lord Grey. It really has.”

Privately, she wondered if she'd ever bump into him again. It was vanishingly unlikely in the real world, of course; the teeming millions in every arcology assured that, if nothing else. Games-wise, it was more possible, although she knew little enough of his habits outside of Yggdrasil itself, and to say what hyper-real offering – if any – would draw his attention and his time was anyone's guess.

Nothing had really taken her fancy yet, so there'd be no cheery 'I'm still around on Asgardia, catch me there sometime!' either. Many of the more recent games were just too gritty, too urban, too gorged on gratuitous violence and – crucially – too focused on the grinding hopelessness of their settings and stories for her tastes. Real life was already quite grim enough, in her view, particularly if you took the global view, but nonetheless grimdark gaming was in the ascendant and so there was simply a paucity of titles for her.

The less said about World of Ponies the better.

Shaking herself slightly, Ruin idly took in the ballroom once more. It was definitely emptier than it had been, even with the guild NPCs valiantly doing their best to maintain the party atmosphere; only the truly dedicated remained – and what an interesting bunch they were. A lizardman, almost comically out of place amidst the white marble and fine furniture, for one, then the moody and brooding Sycthe – looking like a skeletally-malevolent, dark reflection of an angel, complete with blackened and shadowy wings, Reidy, of course – if he had a tail, surely it would always be wagging – and a possible evil sorceress. Her outfit was certainly skimpy enough for it, and the collection of skulls at her belt was another pointer – but no, apparently she classed as a Witchblade. A rare – vanishingly rare, in truth, one of only a hundred across the entire game world - empowered leech, draining life and magic with her ensorcelled blade, and clearly a skilled one at that. Not that there were any unskilled witchblades, to her knowledge – the class prerequisites rather excluded it.

They were, therefore, the very devil to fight – provided you didn't engage and destroy at range, closing them down without allowing them the opportunity to sap their opponents and empower themselves.

7
6
5
4
3
2
1

A bright FLASH later...

It's marbled bearings now the backdrop of a memory not to be forgotten, De Ordine Imperii became the last bastion for those who stayed in YGGDRASIL till the end. As ReidyForPleasure the Informant gazed upon the parchment in his hands, a digital representation of the screenshot sent to his account email, a wave of unfarmiliar melancholy washed over him like a dessert breeze. They looked like the cover art of some novel, a ragtag band who become Heroes not to be immortalized in pastel and oils. A force for good, certainly. What with RuiInRed and her angelic visage, blinding light radiating from her wings. A patron ...or even a Guardian of the Heroes who must embark on some world shattering quest, an otherworldly ally who guides them in times of need with divine intervention and healing. The cleric of the party persay, though Reidy knew better what she was capable of though. Healing is NOT her speciality, especially after having seen her fight whole swathes of unholy beings. He liked that she was a creative sort too, Lake Holy Water still stands to this day. The job of gathering all that silver dust to make it though? Not fun. Not at all. He imagined to layman eyes, despite being in completely different guilds, she seemed most affiliated to the knightlike character she hovered over.

Greyedout, as he stood there, sword planted and adorning his most valuable armours. He seemed like the kind who would face danger in that very same pose, come wind or high water that his lips would never tilt up to a smile nor down to a frown. Reliable? Perhaps there was a better word. A Paladin true and true, if there was one thing about roleplayers it was that their personalities are never far from their capabilities. You could always exploit their compulsions to stay in character for better ...or worse, Reidy always prefered to do it for better. GreyedOut was somewhat sympathetic to the Heteromorphic race, sure he had no tolerance of PVPers who lashed out against Humans but he did not condone the camp spawning of new players either. Reidy could get coordinates of 'Monster Hunters' from him, sadly even if some were of his guild. Though Reidy prefered not to fight, he had seen him heal wounds plenty of times even as the defender of the party, Paladins had the ability to heal quickly in the middle of combat and though their medical potencies were far from those of Clerics, Druids or Physicians. A good healer was one that kept himself alive to continue helping others, that was the mantra of the most skilled medicants in YGGDRASIL. Though it prompted Reidy to question, could GreyedOut ressurect others? He had never seen the Paladin bring others back to life before. Did he not know the quest chain to learn the Paladin version of the skill? Ah ...if telling him that now ....would it still serve a purpose?

Then his eyes glanced over to the edge of the photograph.

Billster stood beside GreyedOut, the war mage was most well known for his behaviour. Second only to Pain. Red fabric flowed along his armor, a visible contrast between the jobs he picked. They got along strangely well despite Billster's sometimes awkward speech, perhaps because they shared similar roles within a party from wielding both magic and might - it did not take many words to communicate with someone who walks in one of your shoes. Reidy liked to pick on him for his excercise puns, often replying to his 'Do you even lift?" jokes with 'Nah. I'm naturally like this.'. Likely an outcome of hanging around Painful Manfulness who was not suprisingly, playing a warrior with a very campy avatar. If toxic masculinity had a face, it would be one of Painful's screaming expressions. Reidy was sure the guy played in some sort athelete's center, most likely while at work as he would always hear some loud crashing of metallic objects when Painful turned on voicechat. That, or an asylum. The idea was most amusing. The occasional screams of blue murder did nothing to allay his suspicions though. He would miss those days of scaring Painful by making it seem like someone was about to catch him for playing at work, ah the wonders of voice recording.

...And finally, Reidy looked at an Indiana Jones wannabe character posed for battle like the others. They each took a stance that best represented them and Reidy's stance was a shady one. A broad shouldered, coated man whose face grimaced under the shadows of his brimmed hat. Sturdy fingers now clawed from his racial abilities, tracing violet arcane sigils over a large, savage looking sword as his scowl scanned his opponents for ripe flesh to plant the weapon deep into. Truth be told, Reidy did not know how to evaluate himself. He always did what he thought was best, not only for himself but for others he considered allies as well. He kept the humble guise of a cheery persona while plundering the darkest secrets YGGDRASIL, it was nice to be able to use the skills he had to learn in real life here for something other tha---Reidy's player stifled his musings: He was not going to see the end of YGGDRASIL with thoughts of IRL.

He let out that melancholy in a sighing breath and looked up away from the photograph as he slid it back into an inventory slot, his avatar moved to seat himself on one of the velvet chairs of De Ordine's round table. Ruin's mention of fireworks had him tossing her a bomblike object into her hands, Dragon's Breath. It sizzled. She asked for fireworks didn't she? That's one of the biggest ones around, usually used for blinding and distraction. Reidy was known to be a bit of an item hoarder and now, a prankster ...or maybe soon - 'he who wears rusty cleavers.' Oh well. Looking sideways, he could see the bold letters counting down.

9:59:49

"It's been a trip guys, I'll not forget this."



Hikaruko_Saves_The_World prepared to close his eyes for twenty seconds in the real world, reluctantly, it is his command for logging out of the system afterall. Though it would not make it in time to log him out before the game server crashed ~ He still did not want the shutdown screen's bright, seizure inducing colours to be his transition from YGGDRASIL.

"Ever."

As Grey listened to the angel speak he couldn't help feel that she was a bit too dire hard into this game. It wasn't like the world was ending...well it was but the real world was still a place, and there were other MMO's out there. "This was MaxUltra's party...not mine. That said it has been a pleasure being a host for all of you. Arce Bellum deserved a good send off. This was all I could muster in its current state. With my comrades vanishing it goes to me to sit on the throne. Though it is not my place...I have an obligation to my comrades. A man must always be emperor. The throne must never fall. That was our creed when it came to building this dungeon into the marble splendor you see around you. It use to be a dungeon of cursed knights you know. Now it is our sanctuary...it was at least." Grey said as he ordered Marcus, and Yuna to follow him through commands. As he marched down the corridors he made sure once, and for all that the lower areas were sealed to the public, and that the men guarding the halls were doing so by checking the Guild Leader Menus. He had been given full control of the castle. As he looked at his nearly empty friends list he sighed. The silver clad guards blocked the hallway behind them as he moved on.

Grey decided life would be better from now on...he'd just have to spend less time on games. And more time on life. Work had been catching up to him. As he looked around at the more fortified inner sanctum of the giant castle's upper levels he couldn't help but wonder...how did Greybeard, BTBB, and Doux all decide this was what they wanted. The silver guards, the aesthetics of a holy castle, and the mighty NPC's. All of them were wondrous. He couldn't help but feel proud of all they had accomplished since then. His friends...his allies....his second family.

As he got to the throne room in its stupendous glory with its massive ceiling, and giant white pillars there sat the golden throne of Arce Bellum. He never wanted to sit on that thing all the guild politics that went with it was a pain. But now it was just a giant metal virtual chair. And in acknowledging that fact he was now fine with his choice. He decided to move up after a brief hesitant moment, and sit on the chair. He walked up the small steps leading to the throne. And put his hand on it gently before easing his virtual armored body down onto it. He deactivated his armor, and sat in his civilian clothes, the silk shirt, and pants that he had wore in more casual times. He sighed as he stared at Yuna, and then at Marcus the butler, and his servant. He closed his eyes and sighed a second time. As he mentally prepared for the countdown he decided to just let it happen...let this world go as he had looked at the clock before hand and as he counted down the time inside his head he wanted it all to end quietly....

5.....4.....3....2...1....

====

.....Wait what? As he waited for something...And it did not come....what was going on? He opened his eyes and saw suddenly that Yuna was in front of him. What he hadn't ordered her to do that...what was going on? "My lord Grey is there something wrong? Are youn ot feeling well?" Yuna asked him gently as a sudden panic flared up in Grey as he pressed himself back against the throne. SHE COULD TALK!? What the hell!? That was a new feature. Grey wasn't sure what was going on so he tried to pull up a menu...only to find out he couldn't...and access to his friends list was now allowed!? He couldn't send messages?! "Yuna you can talk!?" Grey said in surprise as he looked at the young girl who looked back at him. She hadn't changed. She still wore his light white clothes, and her own set of light dwarven armor with his shield, and sword. However here was this pink haired young lady giving him a confused look. "Um yes sir? I've always been able to talk. Are you sleepy sir? Emperor Max won't be happy your sitting on the throne you know." Yuna warned him as she pressed her hand against his forehead, and put her other on her own. She frowned noticing he was fine. "Perhaps you should give him a moment to readjust he was just napping. That party downstairs with those...outsiders must have taken a lot of out of him. I'm sure his majesty...would be fine with him on the throne anyway. He always was carefree..." Marcus said suddenly his smooth voice contrasting Yuna's cutesy one. "...B-by order of the Lieutenant of the Light Guard I order you Marcus escort any remaining players here." Grey said suddenly as he calmed himself down ignoring Yuna for the moment. "Players sir?" Marcus questioned his leader. "I mean the outsiders, and remaining guild members bring them to me!" Grey said to Marcus who bowed. "Also assemble the Grand Imperial Officers of Arce Bellum! We will have a meeting." Grey said as Yuna smiled and said she'll go gather the rest.

In the hall a group of silver soldiers were met by a messenger exclaiming that all 'greater beings' were to assemble in the throne room by order of their grand lieutenant Greyedout. The silver clad guards repeated the message to the others in the hall.

Double post = this post was deleted as the unneeded double.

Sev sat sulkily as he watched the picture take place, watched as other players logged off, watched the laughter die away like a flame snuffed out. It was all melancholy. He sighed and got up, he didn't want to spend his final second inside, but rather outside where he could gaze upon the stars and YGGDRASIL once more. As Grey left the room, so to did Sev, and he found himself wondering to the entrance slowly. Not yet ready for the game to end, for he knew once he stepped outside it would be the last time he saw it in person.

The hallway felt long, and ever growing as he walked. The clock ticked ever on, just ten seconds to go till it was over.

At ten seconds, he took a step towards the door.

Nine. Another step.

Eight. Another Step.

Seven. He reached the door.

Six. He grasped the door handle.

Five. The door began to open.

Four. The door was halfway open.

Three. The door was open.

Two. He took a step though the door.

One.

Negative One. Wait, what?

Sev paused, the game wasn't over? He tried in vain to pull up his screen but no prompts came.

"What-" He began, but stopped as the voice that he heard was not his own. It was wispy and all wrong. "The fuck?" What happened to his voice, he wasn't supposed to sound like a REAPER. He began to panic and clutched at his head, and he felt his body, his shadowy head. He almost screamed, but quickly as it came, something washed over him and negated his emotions. He felt... repressed? Was that the word for it? He still felt, but it wasn't as strong as being human.

"Oh GOD. I'm in the fucking game. But-but, how?" He felt panicky again, but once again his emotions got repressed by something. Now that was odd, but where was he then? He turned around and low and behold the The De Ordine Imperii was still there, but in front of him...? He turned his head to gaze outside at... unfamiliarity. He backed away slowly, retreating into the depths of the guildhall. This was all wrong, how was he in the game?

Quickly he spun and rushed towards the room from whence he came. He felt, faster somehow, stronger and lithe. He could feel his body, and his mind, so he was still alive he guessed. When he reached the dining room or whatever it was called, Sev couldn't remember, he looked at the others who had remained. A paltry few, but they were still there, maybe?

He called out to them in a voice that did not portray his original, "What the fuck is going on guys?"

"Quiet profligate! Your presence is tolerated by our lords, and brothers! We are to escort you to the throne room to face Lord Grey on his own orders! By virtue of him given the reigns of command we are to follow his orders! Now come!" barked the silver guard once again. The silver clad soldier seemed to not be phased at all regarding the matter at hand. "You will come, and you will do so quickly. Whatever crisis you may have while in the splendor of this great castle may be put aside. Greater Being, or not we will not tolerate such disrespect!" the guard said as a handful of silver clad guardsmen moved into the hall. They made no moves to be hostile immediate but they were at the ready with their hands on their swords, or clutching their silver spears should the 'greater beings' not follow their orders. As the soldiers filed in a green clad young man appeared in the middle of the hall as if out of thin air. "I've arrived to assist you in guiding the way to the throne. Please do not resist." the young individual asked everyone in the room. His head was cloaked, and his body was covered in specialized leather rogue armor. Various knives, and short swords lined his belt, and a bow clung to his back with a few arrows in a quiver. "Does the Grand Patriarch think us unable to handle these intruders Severnus? Surely we don't need our chief Frumentarii to bother with such matters." one of the older soldiers asked as Severnus shook his head. "No I merely am here to make sure everything runs smoothly. All Grand Imperial Officers have also received summoners. Claudius thought it beneath him to subject himself 'escorting profligates, and infidels' in his own words." commented Severnus without a hint of snark. His cold emotionless voice projecting a lack of any care for anyone in the room.