OOC: Im posting this with the hopes that I can get some good feedback for improving this story. Please be constructive and please tell me what you think. Thanks! **In Character** She arose with the sun, as she had done every day for longer than she could remember. She quickly dressed in the same blood red outfit that had become her trademark, even though she no longer fought the dreaded creatures that she used to. Lady Ambrosia was a well known animal tamer. In her day, it was nothing to slay dozens of Blood Elementals, dreaded spiders, or even the occasional dark father that infests the dungeon of Doom. But those were in her younger days. Since the loss of her beloved white wyrm Spaz, adventuring for the treasures of the world had lost its flare, its meaning. Ambrosia ventured down stairs, to where she managed her vendor shop. Though the shop was always full of vendors, Ambrosia ran only four of the vendors, as a way of selling off the memories of yesteryears, a way of keeping an income to finance her lifestyle that she had become accustomed to. The other vendors were owned by others, paying handsomely for a spot at the Britain Mini-Mall, as the amount of road traffic was always high and goods tend to sell quickly, and for a slightly higher price than most places. After all, it was right outside of the Britain moon gate. She conversed with her vendors for a while, trying to get a sense of what was selling, what was not. She provided her salespersons with a few more items to hawk, haggled a bit over the suggested retail price, then headed out to check some of her favorite vendors. The morning was still dark, thick with the fog of the previous evening. She headed towards the moongate and traveled to the fair city of Luna. As an avid merchant, she knew well her way around the city, and exactly which vendors had the best prices. Unfortunately, the problem with growing bored with hunting results in a shortage of items to sell. Because of this, Ambrosia often traveled the lands in search of a good deal, knowing that she could sell for a profit on her vendors. She considered a few items, admired a few artifacts that were being sold, and argued some local politics with a few of the salespeople she encountered, but ended the day exactly where she had started: without motivation and without a reason to continue. The sparkle in her green eyes had faded long ago. She still longed for combat, thirsted for blood, but it bored her to death. As a way of maintaining sales, she often went out and assisted the Solens with a couple of favors, in exchange for some of their powder and bags that seemed all the rage these days, but these adventures had become repetitive and mind numbing. She needed more. Often she became depressed, especially around the anniversary of Spaz’s death. Spaz was a good wyrm, pure of color, and very well trained. Blood elementals could not harm him, and balrons often had a tough time dealing with him. Lady Ambrosia of course was a master in the craft of veterinary and kept Spaz alive through even the most troublesome battles, but even these wounds troubled Ambrosia. She hated the fact that her beloved pet had to feel the pain of battle, when she didn’t. She was no fighter, and could offer no help in battle save the healing. It was because of her love for the animal (though to call him an animal in front of her would bring a rage to her face unlike any you have ever seen before) that she decided to learn of the art of peacemaking, which she eventually became a grandmaster in. But despite all she had done, it could not help Spaz that fateful day. Much like this morning, she had arisen early, eager to get into battle at first light. She had traveled into Ilshenar, past the shrine of Spirituality, and into the dungeon known for the blood elementals that she had looted clean for years. Spaz followed her, faithfully as always. Beneath her, her nightmare Blackie carried her valiantly into battle. This day was very different, however. While dealing with yet another blood elemental, two daemons snuck up behind them from the south, lured by the smell of blood and enraged by the sounds of battle. Having never had a need for armor high in resistances, the daemons made quick work of Ambrosia, then focused on her pets, her friends. Watching through the gray void that death brought with it, she could do nothing but watch in horror. Spaz and Blackie fought with all their hearts, but without the healing that they were used to, and perhaps spoiled by the art of peacemaking, they had not the defenses to put up with all three attackers, and fell. Ambrosia was crushed, and refused to adventure out again, fearing the hurt of loosing more friends. Ambrosia decided to go to Britain to see if any wares were to be purchased for a good price near the bank. She hated to do this though, because too many unscrupulous people would sell “animals” at the bank. They treated these poor souls as property, rather than friends. They were often freshly tamed, had no knowledge of battle yet, and were often skinny and malnourished. It disgusted her. However, she was low on merchandise, so she decided to make the trip. Upon her magical entrance at the bank, she saw something that made her heart skip a beat, and her breath caught in her chest like a piece of fish steak caught in the throat. It was a wyrm exactly like the one she had lost all those years ago, with a “For Sale” sign around his neck. Using her knowledge of the lore of animals, she could see that he had been well taken care of, as he was well fed and even knew well the way of combat and magery. “Fine animal ain’t ‘e!” shouted an old man and the apparent owner, surprising Ambrosia back into reality. So surprisingly in fact, that she missed the animal comment entirely. “Why yes, yes he is. Where did you ever come upon a beast of his stature? He truly is a magnificent creature.” “I have had ‘em forever” chatted the old man. “However, a man o’ my age can’t take to the dungeon like ‘e used to, and I’m afraid ol’ Spaz here just cant stand staying in the stables. I hates to get rid of ‘em, but it just ain’t right keeping ‘em all cooped up like that, ya know?” Ambrosia was speechless. She thought to herself that she must be hearing things. He didn’t just call that beautiful creature Spaz, it was but her imagination stemming from the want and desire of having her beloved pet back. But she had to be sure… “What did you call your pet there good sir?” “Spaz, M’lady. A magnificent animal indeed!” This time she heard the animal comment. She flushed with anger but tried to keep her cool. “A Magnificent PET indeed sir” she said, stressing the word pet, as opposed to animal. “How much are you asking for him?” “M’Lady, let me ask ye a question. Ye are apparently a tamer of some skill, least ye could never control ‘em. Yet, ye ride no mount, nor are ye accompanied by any such companion. Why is that?” Ambrosia had avoided this question from both family and friends since that fateful day, yet this old man touched a certain nerve that she could simply not ignore. Against her normal rock solid stature, she broke down. She didn’t know why. She never shed a tear that fateful day, nor had she shed one ever since. But on this day, she wept, and she wept hard. The old man was shocked, and slightly embarrassed for causing this beautiful woman such apparent anguish. “M’Lady, I apologize if I have offended thee or hurt ye feelings.” She quickly realized what was happening and straightened up, wiped her face with her half apron, and attempted to composed herself once again, though her red and swollen eyes gave her away. “Think nothing of it good sir, it was just a thought of an old friend that came over me. I am fine.” “M’Lady, I will make ye an offer. Take good care of Spaz here, make sure ‘e gets out and gets ‘is exercise, and ye can have ‘em free of charge. I can tell ye are an animal lover, and ye have that certain passion in your eyes. Promise me these things, and ‘e is yours.” She was torn. Would taking control of yet another Spaz dishonor the memory of her fallen friend? Would the pain and suffering of loosing yet another pet push her right over the edge should she not be able to protect this one? It was indeed a difficult decision. “M’Lady, I can see ye are troubled with my offer. I know now that the friend ye spoke of before was that of a beloved pet. I too have lost trusted friends. But recently, I have discovered a way of creating a bond with a critter, that will remain even through death. It is not pretty, I can assure ye of that, but your friends can be brought back to life, same as ye and I. Should ye be willing to chance it, be willing to accompany my friend here into battle once again, I can teach ye if you so choose.” Ambrosia became ecstatic. The thought of being able to have the friendship that she desired, without the possibility of loss was a great since of relief. She jumped in excitement, and hugged the old man, giving him a kiss on the cheek. She blushed instantly on realizing what she had done, but the old man didn’t seem to mind. The old man requested one last night with his friend, and Ambrosia was more than happy to grant his request. They set up a meeting for the following day at her vendor shop for the lessons on creating that special bond and to transfer control of the white wyrm. That afternoon, she also rescued a beautiful nightmare from a tactless and heartless person, who thought more of trying to get a date than taking care of his animal. Ambrosia paid the man and fed the animal instantly to win over a bit of its trust. She then accepted the man’s offer of a date, and instructed him that she lived near the Britain gate… In Felucca, and to be there Friday night around 8 in the evening. She was sure someone would take care of this sniveling scum there, and her only regret was that she didn’t have the skill to take care of him herself. She cared not of human lives the way she did for her friends. She left the bank that night, not atop her newly purchased steed, but walking beside him. She left with her head held high, a certain spring in her step, and a twinkle in her eye. A twinkle that hadn’t been seen in years.