Blood again threatens to engulf the Isle of Pride.

Sources close to the Isle claim that Magincian antagonists have begun to harass and assault innocent Britannians housed on the Isle. A series of scuffles and minor riots have erupted as a result. Zhevorrin – a visitor – was seen attempting to pacify one such confrontation with minimal success.

It is unclear what instigated these riots. Or whom. But those close to the Republic and the New Magincian Trading Co. do not claim these antagonists as their own.

Not all is as it would seem.

“Michael?” ten-year-old Charlotte Christianson called out, her voice barely above a whisper.

Michael seemed to appear from nowhere, looking concerned.

“Yes, Miss Charlotte?” he asked quietly, staring down at her.

“I do not care!” she blurted out, holding back tears.

The young boy knew she was referring to their conversation from earlier that day. He exhaled slowly and leaned forward, bringing his face close to hers.

“You do not know what this would lead to, Miss Charlotte.” Michael said, much wiser than his mere twelve years would suggest.

“I do not care.” she repeated. “And stop calling me that!” Charlotte added, clenching her jaw.

Michael smiled down at Charlotte fondly as he brushed one of her long, dark tresses away from her pale skin.

“As you wish.” he murmured before pressing his lips against hers.

Lady Charlotte Christianson watched the pair, unsure of whether she felt more disgust or curiosity. They were Magincians. Charlotte wrinkled her nose as they made their way over to her table. Apparently they knew Fern. As they exchanges words, Charlotte wondered why Fern would associate with such people. They certainly were not “just below” her station, as Grandmother Aurora had advised. Charlotte made small talk with the female Magincian, clutching her purse to her side.

So this is Lynne and her pirate lover, Dante.
Does he have a real peg-leg?
Oh. Not her pirate lover.
How many lovers does she have?
Lynne wants me to come visit her ghetto.
How awkward.
Although, she must have sensed my fortitude or she would not have asked.

Charlotte mulled it over, informing both Fern and Lynne that it would be like going to a zoo. She agreed to consider the invitation but only after she had obtained her bodyguards.

Charlotte felt all grown up, having survived a visit with real Magincians.

As some are aware from this recent post (RP – Schedules to keep and duties to attend to) the Town Guards in Britain have recently relocated their Supply Depot from a small building inside Castle British to a brand-new building located just Northeast of Britain’s moongate, along the road towards Britain.

First and foremost… I would like to publicly thank Amber Witch for her countless hours with the building décor. (We are very lucky to have great decorators on Baja like her and Wildstar). Without Amber’s help, the building would probably not even exist.

Second… We thought it would be neat to add some pieces and snippets of shard history to the Supply Depot. We engraved countless storage crates/kegs on the rooftop which reflect past storylines and role playing experiences the Town Guards have found themselves involved in. You might even find one of your player’s names engraved on the crates.

Here are a few examples:

We’d love to hear which engravings you liked reading (some are meant to be humorous, some are storyline related), so please reply to this thread and tell us which ones you enjoyed.!!

** some of the crates have not yet arrived… and we currently suspect one of the scheduled shipments was STOLEN – keep your eyes peeled for an upcoming player-event regarding this **

Regards,
Brackus

Lady Charlotte Christianson immediately regretted not taking any “medicine” when she saw the cross-eyed buffoon had wandered over to her table. Tias excitedly asked if she had received his note. Through clenched teeth, Charlotte demanded an explanation.

After a long and excruciatingly painful exchange, Charlotte realized that someone masquerading as Lord British had tricked Tias into waking her up every morning. Tias described “Lord British” as being very pale and having dark armor…except for a shirt, which he never wore. Charlotte’s eyes narrowed. She began the difficult task of trying to explain why he could not possibly be Lord British.

Charlotte soon became furious because, regardless of anything she said, Tias was convinced that the shirtless one was, in fact, Lord British.

Finally she snapped, yelling “LORD BRITISH IS DEAD!”

Tias shrugged before walking away.

Lady Charlotte Christianson, despite how uncomfortable she felt, smiled politely to all the guests as she made her way through the crowd. When she arrived at her table she was relieved to see that she was seated next to Fern Goodfellow.

Much like Charlotte, she was rich, spoiled, and pretty. Though unlike Charlotte, who usually felt awkward and out of place, Fern seemed perpetually comfortable (except for the frequent adjustments to her apparently unruly bosom). Charlotte often had trouble understanding Fern and she was usually mortified when she did. Regardless, Fern had become a mentor…of sorts. Personally, Charlotte was opinionated and steadfast in her beliefs. Socially, she took her cues from Fern.

Fern was currently applauding “Char Char” and herself for doing such a fine job on the feast. Charlotte joined in, clapping politely for the duo, yet painfully aware of the fact that no one else was participating in their self-congratulations. Fern was either oblivious or she simply did not care.

Lady Charlotte Christianson awoke, startled and then furious, hearing the cross-eyed imbecile screaming outside her bedroom window again. It was the fifth morning in a row that Tias had woken her up.

“British send him regard to Charlotte!” he bellowed.

Charlotte cursed under her breath and jumped up, looking around for something to throw at him. She decided on a marble paperweight and hurled it out the window. By then, Tias had already wandered off. She continued cursing under her breath as she threw a robe on and stomped downstairs.

As Charlotte headed back upstairs, after retrieving her marble paperweight, she saw a note on her desk.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Fore Sharlot
TiAS stan unnur bedrum winow eesch murneen un yell, “British sennd him reegaard to Sharlot.” Hope roy-al wuman heer TiAS yell! TiAS doo az told!!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Charlotte clenched her jaw and stomped back upstairs.

Lady Charlotte Christianson kept randomly pressing a series of “mysterious buttons” and dodging Minotaur until, after about an hour or so, she found her way into The Void Chamber. She was so awestruck by its beauty that she sat down and looked around for another hour before realizing that everyone else had left.

She stood up and made her way to The Void Core, pausing a moment before she peered into the swirling darkness. Charlotte was so mesmerized by The Void Core that it took her a moment to realize she could hear noise coming from The Void. Charlotte stood perfectly still, straining her ears to figure out what it was.

It sounded like…

Charlotte awoke on her bedroom floor, cold and confused. She wearily made her way back to the stage where The Labyrinth had been; but the door no longer existed.

Had it ever?

Eventually, the familiar euphoria enveloped Lady Charlotte Christianson like a warm blanket on a snowy day. She made her way back to the bazaar and, with newfound amusement, decided to investigate the other booths.

WildStar was filling spell books.
Some crazy old man was telling fortunes through his various pets.
Another, younger and presumably sane, man was recruiting for his guild.
The goblin was selling ice cream. Ice cream! And it was strawberry!

Charlotte helped herself to a cone, thanking the tiny creature. By this point, she had to put effort into containing her giddiness. Next she came upon The Yattering, who was dispensing kisses. For some reason, Charlotte not only found this quite entertaining, but she was compelled to participate. The highly amused Charlotte leaned over and gave The Yattering a smooch. She would later regret this decision, of course, once her medicine had worn off.

Charlotte continued wandering around, eating her ice cream and talking to people. She resisted the urge to tap on Lance’s armor like a steel drum. It was so very temping that she had to excuse herself. She tried to toast marshmallows but she just kept lighting them on fire. Eventually Charlotte found her way to The Fall Harvest Queen’s makeshift kitchen. And there she found pie.

Pie! And it was Moonberry Pie!

The Fall Harvest Queen had agreed to make pie for anyone who brought her moonberries. A now highly motivated Charlotte wandered about, trying to convince everyone to come over and help The Fall Harvest Queen…so that she could have pie. Charlotte finally enlisted the Town Guards to help her, who proved to be quite useful.

Charlotte made up a little song in her head as she waited.

Pie! Pie! I love pie!
I want some pie!
I need some pie!
Pie! Pie! I love pie!
Especially when I am so high!

Instead of completing the quest herself, Charlotte charmed a moonberry from one of the onlookers and exchanged it for a pie, which she polished off while waiting for The Labyrinth to open.

Lady Charlotte Christianson sat quietly at her bazaar booth, listening to everyone around her calling out to the passersby. She clenched her jaw, already regretting her decision to reserve a stall. Charlotte looked to her right, where the Town Guards were set up.

“No wonder they are recruiting, if this is the best they have to offer.” she thought, wrinkling her nose at the cross-eyed one.

Charlotte looked to her left and tried to hide a frown when she saw Captain Jenkins sitting at The High Council booth.

“He is hardly a fitting representation for The High Council. Why is he not with the guards? They could certainly use the help.” she mused, looking back at Tias.

Charlotte was suddenly quite sorry that she had not taken any of her medicine to get her through the day. Still, she continued smiling politely and making excruciatingly painful small talk with the curious people who visited her stall. There was one eager recruit, who seemed to have a lot of potential, but only time would tell.

Not surprisingly, while enduring the masses, Charlotte’s headache had returned. She finally gave up on recruiting, leaving her booth vacant as she wandered off. She slipped behind a tree and looked around before taking a jar from her pack. Charlotte dipped her pinky in, retrieving a small amount of the sticky substance. She glanced around again, making sure no one was watching, and sucked on her finger until it was clean. Charlotte closed the jar and hid it in her pack again. She leaned against a tree, waiting.