The gusty little zephyrs played tag around the evergreens on Kwismas Island, sending sprays of glitter everywhere and chilling the cheeks of the heroic adventures making their way to the Superlative Exemplar guild hall. Inside, steam rose off the kettle of kittenfish burbling away on a back burner. Cups of hot cocoa were set out for the new recruits to wrap their frozen fingers around.
Muha began introductions, blushed as Cryptical leaned over to whisper in her ear, but continued on …
Cryptical wasn’t sporting the usual poker face for a cool cat. At 192, he looks to be a fierce opponent with the tip of one ear broken and displaying a motley assortment of scars, yet his eyes gave him away, fairly glowing as he followed Muha’s every move.
KilnTyme, Cryptical’s brother, unslung his quiver of arrows and hung them up on a peg beside the door for easy access on the way out. There looked to be some special arrowheads poking out of the leather case .. our level 162 cra will bear close watching.
Hellz-Wolfe‘s battered quiver went up beside it, looking much rougher. He winked at us, asked if there was a bwork beer handy, slung a leg over a kitchen chair and took a long draw from the mug before checking around to see if he knew any of us from his kollosium exploits.
-TheNox– paused in the doorway, a bit uncertain of the welcome in a roomful of white wings. Wikeon’s eye lit up, however; having a new brother of the red order will mean a lot, and the two of them were quickly chatting happily about inns and brothels of Brakmar. Closing in on the end levels in the game, TheNox is a friendly sort of fellow, willing to lend a hand wherever, especially if it involves a Brakmarian brothel.
Pharos was almost easy to overlook in the crowd of tall folk. A quiet type .. unusual for the highly exuberant eneripsa race, our 112 healer looks like he’s seen a few hard roads. He’s recently returned, like myself, from a long, lonnnnnnnnnnnng Dofus vacation. Having discovered the icelands of Frigost, we’ll be sure to find him there hunting down bounties. Mastoslob, watch your back.
Makster grinned at us and when he spoke, the venerable enutrof had a Texas twang. Quick with wit, Makster describes himself as “older than dirt.” Our crazy Makster has been promised riches and nubile women for joining the guild. By Crayon, who looks to be making a return, if only he can find his password. I’ll bet he wrote it on a wall someplace and someone came along behind him to clean up.
And finally, there’s me, Oralind. Some of you will may remember me from the beginning of the guild. I arrived just after our first GM left to play Guild Wars, when the legendary Gloves, Kyek, Selesa, dWeeblet were still here. In my five-year absence, I’ve forgotten a LOT of things, so I’ll ask your patience in answering questions that every level 35 toon knows. For those that don’t know me, I speak Canadian with a British Columbian accent.
If you weren’t in the guildhall when introductions were made, please give all our newcomers a warm SE welcome!