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Hey everyone!

Been a long long time. Like, really long lol.

Figured I'd reach out and connect with all of you as best I can. The best way I know how is through Discord since it's predominately where I hang out and it's easier than ever to talk to people since we can create our own communities and all. In fact, it's how I currently stay connected to several different communities I'm a part of.

If you have Discord, be sure to hit me up and talk with me! Can find me pretty active during the day, and (sadly often) late at night.

Discord: Reasey#6749

I also have a Twitter you can follow as well, lol. I check it every day and get notified if I have a message there so if you want to stay connected through that, I'm always there.

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ReaseStoneheart

Hope to see some of you guys soon =). I should be getting on the game every so often to do some grinding, exploring, and other stuff.

My god.

Lol I got the e-mail the other day about Sylvan Heart and calling for old people to come back. Golly, it took me back from so long ago.

If you remember Rease Hunter, that's me! I got everything downloaded, just seeing if I can remember my login details. Would love to hit you guys up sometime =) If I have to make a new account, I totes will!

Hope to see some of you people soon.

EDIT: Seems I remember the account name, but not the password ^_^;; tryin to get into it now.

Lol well who hasn't done fanart before? I know I have done some from time to time about my character. Even if your not an artist I'd imagine sometimes people doodle from time to time. So let's see what ya got =)

This here is a few years old I admit. I can do a bit better, but who knows. Maybe I'll do another piece of fanart in the coming months ;P. This does make me wish though there were childrens graphics in the game lol. At least to hang around the tavern since all the drawings and writing I do about Rease Hunter make him a single Father.

Hey there. Giving a heads up to everyone that the Player Quest Board by the vendor portals have a few quests to do to help MarketVale rebuild itself after being away for a long while. Most of the stuff there shouldn't give anyone too much trouble. It's mostly collecting things like boards, killing orcs, and the like. And what can I say? Money is of course involved!

So if anyone wants to help look there daily. Should be a new list of quests to do each week. Some of which might even give special rewards like weaponry, armor, or even special items.

Lol. Was going through my favorites folder and thought to take a stroll through memory lane. This is Rease Hunter if any of ya'll remember =P. Thought I'd stop by and say hello.

Looking to Buy VS's. Need them in a vast quantity. Also willing to buy Atones as well. PM Rease Hunter in game to haggle a price. Willing to barter as well.

They came without warning, and without provocation from the Western lands.

It had been a peaceful day when it had started. The townsfolk of the Free City of MarketVale were gathered that day in the Pretarian Tavern discussing the usuals of town life. Gossip, Materials needed, funding, Taxes, and the going ons of the outside world. Rease Hunter and his wife, Rayne Hunter were working their daily shift behind the Bar serving up orders of meat and ale to the locals who came by. Farmers, Blacksmiths, Miners and Cartographers were seated for their daily dinner after a hard day's work. Melenthia the Dwarven Blacksmith was seated in a  back corner with her new Apprentice, Garreck, discussing his daily practice and the corrections he needed to improve with. Biki Tarber as well was seated at the front bar to discuss future plans for the expansion of their town and the increase in the docks while sitting next to a half sleeping Gypsy boy.

Even Will Hawthorn had come back from his recent travels to resettle home, despite the difficulty of the fire that costed him his possessions.

None of it however compared to the surprise that awaited them soon. They came with barely a sound. Their marching feet drowned by the merriment inside of the Pretarian but all to soon the Townsfolk came to the realization of something horrible having happened.

First it came as a crash as the line of Trolls marched underneath the Triway Fortress and toppled the scaffolding of the homes being built nearby, leaving the plots as nothing more then rubble and dirt beneath their mighty feet. The first of the homes destroyed as they bellowed their challenge to all within earshot.

"Give us back our lands Hoomans! No right have you to what is ours!" thundered the largest of the beasts. Weilding his double bladed axe high above his head as the metal of his mismatched armor clamoured loudly against the sound of the roars behind him from the legion he had brought.

And then they rushed.

They destroyed all in their path as they rushed through the county lines. Destroying person, property, flora and fauna. They shattered windows and tore up gardens and farm alike. They pillaged the homes of the Merchants for wood metal and the farmers for their rich vein of sustenance and forced those inside to barricade themselves behind shuttered windows and barricaded doors.

However unbeknownst among the Trolls is that MarketVale deals mostly to a warrior crowd as well as other Merchants. Rease Hunter quickly gathered up his black armour and armed himself with his blade Tyrafing and gathered those within the Tavern to his side. Together armed with their various armaments they took advantage of chaos of the pillage and broke free from the doors to make haste for the docks to escape. Along the way they encountered a few other friendlies from the various other Kingdoms and Knightly Orders caught in the crossfire of the rampaging monsters.

"What are we to do? We can't possible fight them all"

"This is a scouting party. Their weak in skill and temperment, but more are soon to arrive."

"We've got to leave before they get more organized."

..and such was spoken as they huddled near the Craftsman Hall.

"Aye, we nee' te lea' a' quickly a' we ken. I wan' all o' ye stron' knightly men te arm yersel'ves an surroun'ed tho' tha' kenna figh' an we're gonna run straigh' te the Dock's. From there we're gonna board ships an sail down alon' the coas' a bi' an 'ead te the mountain Range te the eas' te se' up camp an ma' plans te reta' MarketVale"  The Orders were given, and they made haste to the docks to escape.

It was that time of season again in the township of MarketVale. Winter.

The season of fall has iced over, and the wind blown from across the vastness of the ocean has brought with it the chill from the otherside of the world, allowing the world to die and slumber within itself as the first snow fall of the season blankets across the fields and workshops of its various merchants and citizens.

The sky itself casts its grey visage to the earth, illuminating itself in a dull brightness that lits up to the point of morning as the soft crunch of boots marrs the newly developed landscape. There he reaches his destination of the estate to do what he has sought to do.

There before the estate that Rayne had poured forth her fortune to build he stands, Rease Hunter, with his black countenance contrasting starkly to this white world around him as he stands before the path leading to the door. Granted he could simply walk to the door, but deep down he knows a bit of the ways to make moments more special in their meaning.

"tap tap" goes the sound of a pebble against frozen glass. He stands there with one hand in his pocket, with an arm outstretched holding aloft a couple of pebbles within his grip, smiling slightly for he knew that at this time of day, Rayne would still be asleep and in bed. Hoping to catch her attention he tosses a few more pebbles towards the bedroom window

"tap tap"


[Art Picture goes here after I get my scanner workin]

It had been a few weeks now that the family of MarketVale has adopted a new one into their fold, and the newfound bundle of joy has come in the form of a Cat by the name of Punkin.

It was strange, at first having had a new pet in the house. Indeed Rease Hunter remembers the first time Rayne had adopted a couple of dogs into the household and the hassle of raising two wolves into the fine sophistication of not pooping in the corner, and marking tables as theirs.

How he loves animals.

But this one seemed different. Almost... intelligent. Granted he has never tooken into stock the intelligence of even the bigger animals such as dragons, but this one had a perception and an uncanny amount of common sense. She scratches at doors when she wants out, opens doors with her head, and has even been trained well in using the bathroom when she needs to badly go.

And that wasn't the end of it, as she seems to understand the conversation at hand whenever he talks. And Rayne it appears, know things about the cat as she appears to be on more of a bonded level than anyone else.

Strange things about this animal, he'll have to keep a closer eye....

I seem to remember a post a short while ago on the CMV boards when I had made a comment to the effect of:

" All Drama will be Ignored"

And I remember being applauded as a great leader with ambitious idea's, and with pledges from everyone on the subject of keeping things simple and clean, and their ego's in check for the greater good.

Now I ask, and pardon my speech: What the hell happened?

I turn around, i get things back on track with people, we live our lives and play our game and things explode the more I get involved to keep things under control

And the effect? The game not becoming fun for me no more, and me leaving it more and more to persue other things.

The reasons you might ask, are quite simple. What has been done lately is simple. There has been personal attacks against people openly, gossip behind other peoples backs, lies, deceptions, ego's unbalanced and running amok, and people involving personal feelings within the game itself.

People. I am 21 years old, I run what I use to think was a decently ran RP Guild on the Sylvan Hearts shard. I am perhaps one of the youngest people in the Guild itself, but yet I feel I am more mature than some of the older people who feel entitled to their own opinions who state them, tact and courtesy being damned.

We are seriously, SERIOUSLY in a crisis of tact, courtesy, and general respect for one another within CMV and some that are not even within the guild that its appaling and sickening me to the point that Im not having fun with the game, or talking to some of you.

We've had arguments over people who feel other people are destroying this Guild within the game, and instead of keeping it civil or at the very least ignoring the other party, spreading the news of it like wildfire through other ranks and reporting a biased view of the entire thing to others and ostracizing the other party involved.

We've had people gossiping and rumour mongering behind other peoples backs, spreading things that should otherwise be a personal matter to one person and one person only.

We've had ego's running loose, with people feeling they are allowed to lead others when no one seems to be asking simply because they they have seniority, a shiny title, or entitlement to do as you will.

We've had people contact staff for outrageous reasons because they feel they've been "harassed" by another player for whom they've started arguments against.

We've had players LEAVE because of all of this, and slowly, so am I.

Im going to lay it down thick and hard for some people, because I want to insure to everyone that my message becomes loud and clear: I am not having fun, and those above are the very things that are destroying this guild. No, it's not because one person started another guild, and some people left for that one. No, it's not because Im hardly there. No, it's not because of ANYONE. It is THOSE reasons above, and I am quite sick of them. Sick of them to the point that Im thinking of becoming too honest with some people.

I made this Guild as an RP haven, as an escape from the "Empire/Kingdom" ideal that was popular at the time for a small town look and feel. I had played MarketVale for almost 4-5 years previous, and I had also thought that perhaps it would be a nice idea to relive some of my nostalgic days when things were fun and lighthearted, and was all about the story. Sadly, now it's not about that, and I want to remind people also that CMV is there for Friends, and for Me. I made this, and if I think people are going to treat it as a childs object, then I will take it away, and I will either move it somewhere else, or I will simply make it cease to exist.

So for those people who have been causin problems, here is your options: Grow up, or leave. If you choose to leave because of the harshness of my words, then Im sorry that we are not the Guild for you, and for you wasting your time. Im only going to be building this further on for people devoted to Role Playing, for being Friends, and for sticking your nose out of peoples personal life from here on out.

Some of you should expect things in the PM's here shortly.

SO I say thank you for staying through my rant, and if your not part of the problems that I've mentioned, thank you, and I hope that you'll stick around/come back to help us build further. However, if your part of the problem, then I say sorry for being so harsh, but sometimes people need truth to realize their mistakes and better themselves in the end, and hope your mature enough to do that without hard feelings.

~Rease Hunter

It lurked there still. Beneath the surface of his own tattered soul that he dare not show. What reasoning does he have to feel this way? What logical explanation could there be that the taint of the old widow sisters still marked upon his flesh would leave him to render these feelings deep down despite his brave face to the world at large and to his people.

Shame? Why should he have shame in a more accepting world that is not as stringent on rules of society. Indeed if your strong, you live. If your weak, you die. The rule he's always lived and breathed through every fiber of his being.

Hatred? Why should that have any lasting effects now? His old prejudices burned away years ago thanks to the love of a woman, and the birth of two children who helped him mature.

But yet there he sat. At the foot of his bed in the dead of night as he's accustomed to. The red glare of the end of his ciggerate lighting the front of him as the smoke billows forth to create a halo of blueish fog around his unhatted head. Naked save for his black leather pants on him to hide his pride. The redness of his back blazing for all in the room to see if there should be someone. The many criss crosses of shame and pain that mark his back that have come from a different battle altogether.

Things spiraling out of his control. Emotions bottled up, and funneled into those that he does not share. Anger and resentment that continues to grow and spill. and the ever increasing taint that lays at the back of his mind remains there.

What is he to do with himself?

Im a little perturbed about the angry wild animals in MarketVale recently. They attack travelers, and no one within the town has any idea as to why the animals have been hostile.

However, this is a good opportunity for RP that a lot of us have seen, and would like to do something in a storyline to figure out why they are acting that way, and to fix things. So I wouldn't mind talkin to staff about it or anyone else in MarketVale to hear what they gotta say about it.

"shniiiiick  shniiiiiick"

went the sound of stone upon metal.

"shniiiick schniiiiiick"

How long has he been back? couple hours? several couples? Doesn't matter. Seems things have been happening while he was gone. This is the first thing he has done while returning. He came straight towards his room, his square of santcuary,and started to begin his work.

It was there he stripped off his armour and set it aside upon the feathered matress. Quickly reaching to the confines to the drawer to grasp at the only object within its wooden sarcophogaus; His whetstone.

And then, he sat down cross legged to begin to work.

"shniiiiick shniiiiiick"

How things have gone awry since his departure. How could he have left without leaving someone in charge? It wasn't his fault he suppose. Then again, he should have known better. The Animals of the forest? Where were the druids in this case and not out solving the problem? He had been attacked on his way back home. Is it more than to ask that people do the duties they been relagated to do?

The thought of that only increased his anger as he slides the whetstone sharper down the edge of  his Tyrafing. After all, this isn't some party town where people come to get drunk and expect fun events. They come here to work, and they joined with that in mind.

"schniiiiick   schniiiiiiiiiiick"

He leans down and exhales, blowing off minute metal dust off of his sharpened blade. Perhaps, its time for people to remember what this town was created for...

Time to get to work, he thinks.

There he stood atop the roof of the Pretarian Tavern. The darkness enveloping his Black armour and clothing, and the coolness of the night perspiring off of the metal of the blade on his back.

Another sad day, or so Rease Hunter heard. Below his Tavern as well while he was away none the less.
The insolence of it all! In HIS town, under HIS watch, and in front of the established building of safety!
How dare they! It was enough to make his blood boil to the point of evaporating. His teeth clench tightly and grind smoothly together as his face pinches in anger, his arms crossed as he recalls the story that Shakka had told him when he returned from his ride.

Supposedly Damira, The Paladin Queen of the Empire had quite her post and alliegence within the so called Kingdom on account of losing her knightly abilities. And to make matters worse, possibly even joined to this so called "Dark" side.

The first account of the story is true, he knows. He remembers the days soon after the battle of Trinsic when she returned to the smokey interior of the Pretarian while he was on duty. There she sat in her stool across from him and sobbed out her story to him and of her fears and angers. Himself, being the subtle master of word and comfort that he is, stood by and merely nodded to himself and chose words of duty over words of comfort.

''Prolly je' an offday, ye know lass?" he had told her that day. And she entrusted him with the secret  and would have revealed more untill Shakka and Ortanius had came in for their afternoon special of white lightning and roasted pig and before he knew it, Damira was gone before he could take her to more private rooms for discussion further.

But if the second part of this story is true, then damn her now! Had she no sense the Gods gave a goose? Or did that gene from Kalmir simply not pass on from his seed to her? Was she not taught as a warrior that even should the loss of limb occure, that the fight was still on? Was she weaker than his expectations of how the Paladin Queen should be? How low can one really fall from grace.

Now the weight of this war weighs heavily upon his shoulders as his mood darkens to the color of the sky. Is he to carry on this mummers farce of a battle without the other Architecht of battle? His only true liason to the Empire and the only one who might possibly rally to the cause of MarketVale? What of the soldiers of the Empire, what are their expectations of him now?

Bah! Damn all this thinking to the Abyss. Perhaps he'll take up Kevesta on that old offer of some dinner and a discussion that he had given. After all, he runs a Market Town, and Markets do well with more customers at hand, and this really isn't his war to begin with.

So now he stands upon the flattened section of his roof, and just watches towards the rest of his town before, staring off towards the horizon of world, and loses himself in thought despite the smattering of the rain coming forth.

If only.....

["Find the heir! The heir I say! You cannot win without the heir!"]

Background music  ------>  http://www.animeaddiction.net/anime/Berserk/mp3s/berserk_forces.mp3


As is most of the time of Rease Hunter's moments of thought, it is night time. The Pretarian Tavern stands as dark and alone as the core of his soul feels on this night. However, this night he will not pray silently to some uncaring god of good or evil for deliverance of his own personal hell within him. Tonight this isn't about him, his past, his drunkedness or his personal feelings for the matter. Tonight he makes a choice to help a friend out and to put his skills back on the line.

With that, he walks slowly up the stairs of his Tavern. Strange as it is how he can still call it his "Tavern" when origionally he intended the place simply as a place of inconvenience not to long ago. Back then it had been simply a place to lay low, and take the so called "easy path" from his past. His wife Artemis, long ago in the throes of maritial bliss had decided that for their progeny sakes they would stop their violent life of blood and murder. Ahhhh the blissfull days of a bloody innocence, he fondly remembers. How life had tooken a most interesting, if not confusing, turn. The Vandor still do not know where he is, and here he stands Artemis-less, Ethan-less, and Kasha-less, with a town under his own belt to uphold, and an army behind him that looks to him with.......what? Admiration? Respect? Awe? Reverance? HAH! It was enough to make a man laugh, and he probably would have done so if it were not for the seriousness of the situation. Let them think of him as they think. He knows the truth of the whole matter.

However tonight, the situation becomes mroe confusing. During the meeting earlier, there was a disturbance within. A man, either drunk on too much booze and drugs, or insane with madness, overtook the steps and overcame 2 of Damira's Paladins, practically throwing Smit out of his own window. But it was the words of the man that confused him the most, despite his appearance of amusement:

"Find the heir! The heir I say! You cannot win without the heir!"

and with the end of those rants, he quickly turned to dust at Damira, Smits, and Ryori's feet.

And its not just about that that bothers him. The night before last in one of his drunken stupors he stumbled into his bed to rest off his nightmares and anger. It wasn't long before though that he had a strange dream. There he was, in the middle of the Taverns main part, with a man across the table who went by the name of Najaal and gave him close to 100,000 gold and stand down his forces and serve his Lord Abraxius. However, despite not having a voice he would have gladly told the man off, but for the money laid before him, and his inability to move. He told him he had a choice to make.

And then the morning after with Atheryn as well, telling him that he must not falter in his plans because of what is at stake.

They both told him he had a decision to make....

Now he has made that decision, and it is to help the Empire of Sosaria and the Paladin Queen in their cause, perhaps just this once in the matter so he can consider his options and promises that this Najaal has spoken of.

He stands now within the confines of his own room, clear of the debris and pugnent odor of cheap booze and unwashed clothes. His decision now comes and leads him to a chest at the foot of his bed now. His fingers trembling, opening the chest to reveal.......

....a pair of almost pure black clothing and armaments. Aged by the time of unuse. A sigh escapes his lips as he then stands, and remembers of the time when he wore this with pride. Of the innocent people he killed, of the blood that soaked into these garments, of women, men, and children both who were either slaughtered or left behind who lost family, all in the name of money. All the source of his anger and shame of himself.

However....for just one day, he will don the colors again and ride upon a mount, with his blade in his hand. This time, he will wear the colors in the name of helping and good (a laughing stock more like 5 years ago).

For just one more day he'll be the Black Swordsman for the right reasons.

The rain continues to pour down the side of the Pretarian Tavern in sheets. Fogging the windows of Room 31 as Rease Hunter, wide eyed still from the events of the day that unfolded, crosses the room to gaze. He stands a mess, his shirt in a tuss upon the floor from the various beer and meade stains that covered it, and barefoot and unarmoured aside from his hat.

A lightning bolt cracks in the sky as he looks onward from his third story room. Looknig towards the unfinished pavement and unfinished homes of the settlers that moved here. "Wha' am I doin 'ere?" he wonders to himself. Surely being involved with this war goes against everything he's ever beleived in himself. Good? Evil? Neutrality? It all never mattered to him before when it was just him and his blade that he concerned about. But now......

"Bah..." he say's disgusted as he turn away. If he was himself 10, even 5 years before he would have gladly tooken on the role of Mercenary in this conflict and have played both sides for fools while making a tidy profit off of this conflict. His past with the Vandor Crime family made certain that he knew how to pull strings. However back then he was a different man. That was before he married and had 2 children of his own to look after. Before his wife ran off. Before he settled and started a Tavern. Before people started moving in. Before everything. Now, it was different. There were people now who looked up to him, who expected of him to provide for the town and to run it into a respectable locale. Did they expect to much of him?

All of this expectations was more than enough as he slammed his body into the wooden chair of his desk, his fist quickly following suite behind as it rocked the wooden furniture and clinking aside a few bottles of booze he bought off of Kalmir and Adrinus. Allready he's been somewhat forced to play host to Kilrain of the Cult in what he felt was a concealed threat against MarketVale. Whether he liked it or not, those people are still his responsibility, and his first priority is to make sure that no harm comes to whoever lives there, even if the stress of their expectations crushes him. And yet Damira Sunkarn has high hopes in MarketVale's help within this war, as she's allready lost Gorn, and before that everyone lost Eowernia of the Druids Grove.

Slowly, through the course of the night as he mulls over these facts. He beleives himself to come to a decision and a plan on what to do....

....and with that, he slowly climbs back to the safety of his bed, resolving to himself that tomarrow he shall make several orders to the various merchants within the city limits and stockpile on supplies.