Light glistened brightly off of the water’s surface, which rippled constantly when another person moved through the water. The clan members seemed to have enjoyed themselves and even forgotten that it was all just a game. Zhirin glanced back at some of the empty tables and shook his head in disbelief. He had never seen so much food disappear. Then again, he himself had drunk over half of the contents in the coolers so he was no one to speak on the subject. He raised his cup and tilted it over completely while watching the last drop fall into his mouth.

Midway through the party, even he had lunged himself into the river while fully clothed for a little swim. Now he lay atop a rock to let the sun dry his clothing. Zhirin closed his eyes to shield them from the penetrating rays of light. Even with his eyelids shut he could still see their red outlined form right in front of his eyes. The sounds of those remaining in the water struck his ears harder now that he had to listen more to be aware of his surroundings.

Remembering that he was at a form of party, and with his clan nonetheless, he opened his eyes and simply rolled off of the rock. The grass below acted as a rather comfortable cushion, forcing him to sigh regretfully as he pushed himself up. Fully dry now, he headed back towards the base of the river and glanced around. It seemed as though most believed that he had fallen asleep. However, he found it odd that no one had tried to do something to him if that was the case. There were particular members who especially enjoyed playing pranks but then again, maybe they were too busy with other things to even bother.

Taking a deep breath, he kneeled down, snapped his eyes shut and dunked his head into the shimmering water. Seconds passed and yet he remained submerged. Abruptly, he jerked his head back and shook it vigorously to rid himself of most of the dripping water. His front bangs fell back into place steadily but now with his hair wet and in the bright light, it appeared to be a much lighter shade of brown than it normally did. Not knowing what else to do, he scanned the area until his eyes were fixed on the original tree he had first sat under after he had arrived.

Zhirin walked over to it and jumped upward. Grabbing the bottom branch, he pulled himself up and casually made his way further to the top or as close to it as he could get. From there he had a nice view of the entire area along with everyone that was present. The blademaster was especially happy to see that almost every member had shown up. The only one missing was Zavier. For a moment he paused to think back on the days when he followed the leader’s orders without question. How long ago that seemed.

So many things had changed since then. The blademaster was originally brought in under Xeromessiah who ruled with an iron fist and whose decree was absolute. Zhirin had originally intended to only join for the thrill of role-playing but he had seen that there was more than just fun to this game. When Zavier took control over his body again and Xeromessiah was taken out of the picture, Zhirin had remained in the clan for two main reasons. The first was curiosity. He honestly wanted to know what was going on. And then there was the second, which he now believed was the most important. He had made some great friends within the clan.

As usual with clans, people came and went with the pass of the months. Some remained and for that Zhirin was truly grateful. True comrades were not something that he often found. Before, Xeromessiah and then Zavier personally researched all of the new members but now it was different. Not only was Zavier no longer leader but also the clan now had two. Both Kalian and Zhirin shared the responsibilities leading the clan and trying to maintain things in order. Back when he joined, he would have never imagined that he would have a hand in leading the clan he had come to love so much.

A rather unusual gust brought him back to the matter at hand. He looked down and saw everyone else enjoying themselves. Knowing that the clan could just hang out like this showed good promise for their future. Zhirin smiled and stood up atop the branch he had chosen to rest on. “Hey!” He called out loud enough for everyone present to hear. “I think we should play some sort of game. We’re here to have fun after all so why not? If anyone has a suggestion, speak up!” While waiting for someone to think of something, he looked back over the horizon.

Even from way out here, he could still see the Bastion where they all resided. Their base of operations but most importantly, it was their home. As he looked upon it, he felt awkward. There was something that made him feel uneasy when he looked at the tower but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He figured it was nothing more than anxiety to do something and turned back to the clan. Even as he shifted his gaze back to the clan, he could have swore he saw something on the tower. Zhirin immediately whirled back to the Bastion but nothing was there. What’s going on? It’s just the Bastion. Not only is it impenetrable to anyone other than us who would have a motive to even attempt something? The blademaster shook his head at his paranoia and turned back to the clan. He figured they should get to doing something before any more thoughts popped into his head.

Yoku lay upon the nearby stream within the Bastion. It had been a while since he had truly enjoyed himself within The World. Inside a digital creation, one could be free from any foreboding thoughts and free from any stress. What some people use The World for, is to get completely away from reality and become immersed within the loose, fabricated version that CC Corp has created. Yoku however, did not wish to use The World for simplistic ideas that would serve one only by draining their money slowly. Yoku wished to use it to explore himself in a greater depth.

One might ask Yoku if he acted as himself, or as another person. Yoku would simply say that he was acting himself in order to further increase his study of his inner self by making decisions as if The World was real. This meant the decisions made in Battle Mode, shopping for items, and anything like that. He would test himself of anything within The World that could test his wit. That is why Yoku was given the title of Strategist because of his decisions in battle and quite possible the all of decisions within The World itself.

“Yoku!” shouts a voice from some location close to the long arm. “Wake up you lazy sack of crap!” the voice’s owner kicked Yoku in the ribs, and quickly brought the long arm to his senses.

“Ow, what do you want Xi?” Yoku asks, rising painfully. “I had to pull some strings just to get you in here!”

“You just going to stay there, or are we going to spar?” Xi walks over to her spear, and picks it up.

Yoku kneels down and picks up his spear. “Please tell me one thing.” The strategist rises to his full height and brushes the grass from his clothes. “Why are we sparring again?”

“Because it’s to see who’s better. A player whose played a year longer, or a [player that’s been playing just recently.” Xi makes a quick stab at Yoku.

The male long arm parries the blow, and yawns. “Why should I be one to test your skill? Today’s supposed to be my relaxing day!”

Xi makes a flurry of stabs at Yoku, who blocks each attack. “Because I wish to discover the true extent of your skills, and see if skill from the real world can be transferred into the game!” Yoku remembers the days long past, and tries to remember a few memories.

FLASHBACK

With one savage blow from his opponent, Karashte is struck in his left thigh. The young boy uses his pole to rise one again, and defends from the oncoming attacks. A block to the left, the right, above, below, and every area his opponent could attack. Karashte was given no quarter, as he was struck in the left arm.

“Give up, you got nothing left!” shouts his opponent, a female slightly younger than him.

“You haven’t won yet, I can still fight!” Karashte, parries one of the blows with enough power to send his opponent off balance for a short second. The young boy took advantage of his opponent’s broken rhythm, and lashed forth. With one quick strike, he managed to damage his opponent’s dominant right arm.

“You think you’ve got momentum?” his opponent shouts, as she lands another blow on Karashte’s left thigh. The young boy could already feel the pain surging throughout his left leg. It was a hopeless cause…

END FLASHBACK

“Bah, I refuse to fight in the land I call paradise.” Yoku states plainly.

“Then where would you like to fight?” Xi asks, leaning slightly forward.

“At the Sparring Organization Room. I’ve been meaning to shed something other than monster blood.” Yoku says, smiling.

“Don’t be so overconfident, you’ve never dueled me before.”

How could she have forgotten our countless duels in the real world?

“I’ll be in the S.O.R Zhirin!” Yoku calls out to his superior, as he makes his way to the Bastion with Xi in tow.

(OOC: I am forsaking my rewards for this quest)

A pool party is an interesting thing. For a guy, half the time is spent looking at the girls and waiting and wishing their suits to fall or be taken off, and the other half is spent trying to outdo the other guys. For a girl, it means making sure your suit doesn’t fall off, dealing with the stares and not-so-concealed glances of the guys, and watching as they make fools of themselves trying to outdo one another. For Dien, though, this pool party meant something different.

He’d spent countless hours searching for the spot on the river, building the dock, hacking in the self-cooking grills, creating the lawn-chairs, and then getting all of the food ready. As the event’s coordinator, he’d not really had a chance to enjoy himself until the time of the actual party (and it had taken up a good chunk of his summer). Now he was glad to see that everyone was having a good time, loafing around and partying with one another as best as one can in a virtual world. It was the best simulation he’d ever encountered in the internet, and so it was the best simulated party he’d ever had.

“Dien!” called Auren, who’d extracted herself from the ‘pool’ some five minutes before. His attention turned to her as he climbed up onto the dock, and he nearly slipped back into the water, his eyes taken momentarily captive by a bit of bounce from her chest. Had she noticed, his cheek would have been reddened by a cold hand, but from the distance they were at, she seemingly hadn’t noticed his glance.

“What’s up?” he shouted back, his eyes returning to her face.

“I think I left something back at the Bastion,” she returned, “you wanna run back with me and grab it?” By this time, the blademaster had made his way over and was seated next to his girlfriend. The events that had brought the two together made an interesting study, as there was nothing really deep there between them to count for. She’d landed naked atop his nearly dead form in an event of old, and they’d been together since then. It didn’t make sense at all, but since when has sensibility overcome lust?

Zion, the man who’d stopped their fornication before it happened, had left not too long ago (likely to attend to some administrative duties he had). It didn’t matter; Dien was just happy that the man had taken the time to show up.

“Yeah,” he said, “but let’s use our daggers, they’re about ten times faster.” The daggers were something unique to the Unity. They symbolized membership in the clan, and also facilitated rapid transport to the Bastion (which is why Dien wanted to use it). The twinblade nodded, reaching to where her inventory normally would be to find it missing.

“Uh, Dien,” she replied, “I don’t have mine with me…” It would prove a problem, but he was pretty sure that he’d be able to get them both back to the Bastion in one piece.

“Don’t worry,” he replied, “just hold on.” Her arm was wrapped about his waist as he took the dagger off its necklace and into his hand. The normal words were uttered to bring him to the room of his mate, and the dagger glowed. Normally a bright flash would have relocated him to just outside Auren’s room, but this time, the glow just died down. Brow wrinkling in confusion, he tried again, only this time no glow was emitted from the dagger. “Let go a sec,” he said to Auren, almost rudely forgetting about her.

“Dien’s room!” he shouted, holding the trinket before him in both hands. There was no response. What the hell? It wasn’t normal for the device not to work. No coding error could exist; countless alarms would have rung if an outside source had altered anything about his character information while he was playing, and yet no sound had been made.

“Zhirin,” he said aloud, walking over to the blademaster who’d positioned himself atop a hill, “try your dagger for a minute.” Something was wrong, and if the clan couldn’t get into their own hideout, they would be left weaponless and armor-less and essentially screwed. Not now, Dien thought, don’t mess this day up now!
__________

A sound? Interesting as it seemed, the whipmaster had no time for simple sounds. Yet another super-powered monster appeared before him in the Unity’s Sparring Organization Room.

“Extended Reach of the High Tide!” he shouted, and his new whip erupted in flames of water and ice, licking up and down the sides of the coil. A single crack, and the fiery temptress that had appeared before him was cut in half before even getting the chance to cast her spell. The words, ‘Elemental Critical,’ floated over her now fading half-corpses, and he could feel himself getting stronger. That’s enough for one day, he thought, time to call it quits.

“Program: end.” He said aloud, and the monster-generator shut down, leaving him enshrouded in a blinding white light. It had been a good day’s workout, but now was his time to hit the showers. The light quickly faded, leaving him in an open room, black walls lined with a thin red grid like something off Star Trek. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the light, but they soon found and guided Alexander to the door.

“Wait,” he said upon exiting, “I thought the only monsters here were inside the SOR…” A pair of goblins glared at him menacingly, and he shrugged, quickly taking out the low-level beasts with a single stroke. Just what the hell is going on here?

“Not while I’m around,” a dark voice said from behind him. Just the way it sounded sent a shiver down his spine, and there was nothing that could change that. Whoever it was definitely was not a part of the Unity.

“Get out!” he shouted, spinning and cracking his whip all at once. The echo resounded through the halls, followed by the splattering of blood upon the floor. All too easy, the intruder thought, letting the blood drip off the end of his weapon, staining the floor more and more thoroughly with the now deceased whipmaster’s blood. His takeover was now complete.

Things had been going well at the Unity Pool Party, or so Silk figured. Little did he know, there was something terribly amiss going on inside the Bastion, but he would find that out a little later. For now, he was content to allow his body to float gently above the rocking waves, which had to be good for the soul.

Nearby, everybody seemed to be having a good time. And boy was Silk thirsty. Jesus Christ he was thirsty. Oh man, the bacterial inhabitants on his tongue were dying of thirst, his mouth was so parched. He had to get something to drink, and soon, for he had never desired something icy cold and sugary sweet and liquid fresh as much as he did at that very instant.

"I MUST DRINK!" he shouted, leaping out of the water and dashing towards one of the nearest coolers full of drinks. He chugged down several bottles of some kind of fruity punch liquid, but he didn't take the time to look at the brand or flashy wrapping paper specifically. In doing so, he spilled a lot of it over himself, and he also managed to allow some of it to slip into his lungs instead of down his throat and into his stomach. Because of this, he began to choke.

"Gah! I'm not dying!" he waved at hordes of people coming to help him. Little did he know, no one was coming to help him. In fact, assistance was far from forthcoming, seeing as how a lot of people were pondering a strange anomaly concerning the Unity Daggers. They didn't work.

Once Silk had finished coughing, he drank some more. And more. And more. "Ahhhhh... icy goodness," he murmured, downing the very last liter of the very last drink in the very last cooler. He looked up to see Dien bugging Zhirin about something, so without wasting any time, he journeyed towards where the two of them stood. They were discussing the daggers, and examining them closely, but otherwise whatever was going on was beyond Silk's capacity to understand, at least with the information his mind had to work with.

"So then... what's the problem?" he asked with a decisive sloshing sound emanating from his gut. He had drank quite a bit, and for a little while, physical activity would be out of the question. He had probably gained several pounds of weight due to all the liquids currently contained in his stomach, and it wouldn't be so bad if it didn't slosh around so much; since such was the case, it was actually "so bad" and therefore... God this sentence is miserable -- Why won't it just stop?! Oh wait. It did. Nice.

Lalalalala... lyrical prose! BOO! Did I scare ya? That's what I thought... Doot doot doot. Don't get a hair cut, darling! Do ya think it's gonna make him change? Jenny and the Ess-Dog! What the HELL is going on here? I don't know, sir, but it seems as though that alien desires your kidneys. Okay, STOP!

Silk stood with a very serious expression, forming a triangle with Dien and Zhirin as the other two vertices. "The Unity Daggers don't work?" the Fist Fighter asked rhetorically as he rubbed his chin pensively. "This doesn't make any sense, and it's unprecedented in all the time we've had them. Very irritating, to say the least... I guess there's only one thing we can do, and that is to enter the Bastion physically. Any objections?"

(OOC: I was extremely thirsty when I wrote this post.)

*this is just a place holder so that the quest gets on the page, so i don't have to keep searching for it...it wll be replaced by a quest soon.*