Location: Home / / Tsarikos' Remort Story

Striding along fearlessly, muscles rippling along her arms, one would believe that she feared nothing. And it was true, or at least partially so. With fingers caressing the hilt of her dagger, Tsarikos was alert of all possible dangers around her, weighing and dismissing them before they even knew she had passed.

She moved remarkably noiselessly for a centaur. One would think a partially equine creature would make as much noise as an elephant in the Jungles of Verume, but it was not the case. Perhaps it was her ranger class -- her palomino body and well-endowed torso always seemed to blend into the background. Almost like an equine chameleon.

On this day, however, Tsarikos was in no hurry to arrive at her destination. No quests, no campaigns, no missions. It was a lethargic day, and most around her slouched their way around, snarling dispiritedly at passersby. Yet it was to be no ordinary day for the centaur ranger. She scuffed a hoof in the grass, and turned her head towards the Remort Chamber.

A shiver ran through her body as she stared at the cold stone room. Terrible stories and forms had emerged from that chamber: Wispen, a sprite thief and close friend, had fearfully mentioned a dwarf carefully edging his way into the chamber, and re-emerging as a formless shadow, tendrils reaching out towards other hovering shadows. And all knew, but tried to ignore, the blasts of light which signalled the presence of someone else within the chamber.

Shaking her head, willing the doubts to sink into oblivion, Tsarikos walked into the Remort Chamber; cautiously, of course, for no fool entered the chamber overflowing with pomp and bravado. Peering round, she saw bare stone walls, and all was a depressingly uniform grey. All except a small sphere in the centre of the chamber: a sphere that shimmered with incandescence, and drew the eye. Almost as if under the influence of a compulsion, she stepped forward, reached out, and stroked the glowing sphere with a forefinger.

And sank into unconsciousness. Was it darkness speckled with light? Or the other way round? She had no way of telling. As inky black drained from her sight, she saw the grey stone of the remort chamber again, and looked down at herself. At her well-defined muscles, now more pronounced than ever. And trolled through her memories, her knowledge: spells which she had never heard of before now swam inside her mind, and all of this told her one single thing. The Remort Chamber had strengthened her, and granted her knowledge beyond her learning.

She sprang to her feet -- so effortless now, with her taut muscles simply twitching and propelling her upwards! -- and strode out of the Remort Chamber, head held high.