Solo or RP Format
Counts as 5 RP growth Points
Solo word minimum is 750, RP post minimum is 7

Fears are meant to be overcome, but often are hard to do so. What are the fears that plague your character at night? How long have they dealt with these fears, and where did they originate from? How do they deal with their fears, and how does it impact their life and relationships? And will they ever work to overcome it?

[ Spend this World Event working through the fears of your character, either on their own or with some moral support of a friend ]


The day was beginning like many others have so far in her young life. Though in a new town, it was quiet morning spent playing with her toys. The morning meal had already been shared. Ixora was only half listening to her family talk about what route to take over the coming months for the next trades. She was happy. Everything was peaceful. As it should be.

That was, until the banging started. A sound like that of hundreds of fists pounding at the walls filled the air. It sounded as if thousands of others from all of the surrounding villages had decided to come calling all at once. Angry yelling assaulted her ears through the windows. Ixora froze. What was going on? Nothing like this had ever happened before.

“Run”, her mother’s voice called. Such a simple word, spoken with calm and quiet authority. A word Ixora had never hoped to hear. The volume was an attempt to keep the child’s location a secret. Ixora’s mother moved to retrieve her spear. It was always kept near the door, but rarely saw the action it used to when she was a warrior with her fellow Elaria. Ixora’s father pushed the child forward, urging the small one to take cover in a crawl space built into the back room.

“It’ll be ok,” he tried to assure her. “We’ll come get you when it’s over. When it’s safe. I promise” As soon as she was settled, Ixora could hear her father taking stance as well. He wasn’t a fighter, but that did not mean he would give up defending those he loved.

The yelling was getting louder. There was a cracking and splintering as it sounded like the wood all around them was beginning to give way. It almost seemed as if the whole house was going to come down. Tucked as far back into the tiny room as she could be, Ixora prayed to anyone that was listening. All she could do was listen to the clashing outside. She never could truly make out what was being said, but she knew that the people breaking in hated them all. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what was being said.

The yelling eventually grew into the sounds of battle. Metal clashing, wood breaking, furniture overturning... She could only guess what each slam and clang could be. She squeezed her eyes shut in the darkness, willing it all to go away, trying not to listen to any pained cries she heard. Then the sounds of battle ended. She could hear the sound of heavy steps moving all through the house. Doors being opened. More furniture being moved. Had something happened to her parents? They’d remember where she was, wouldn’t they? She held her breath as the noises got closer. It didn’t sound like her parents. Suddenly, the door hiding her was ripped open and the tiny room was filled with a bright light and the sound of more crashing.

Gasping for breath, Ixora sat up in bed covered in sweat. Her hair fell into a wavy mess, bangs sticking to her forehead. A flash of lightning and loud, crashing thunder rolled outside of her window. Rain was roaring and pelting the roof. Those must have been the sounds of the people invading her home. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she glanced around her room, confused. Where were the people? Her parents? Why wasn’t she hiding? Had it really all been a nightmare? It had all seemed so real.

Shifting to the edge of her bed, the small girl swung her feet off to stand. Dragging her blanket off with her, she took a moment to find her footing. When she finally felt steady enough, she shuffled to crack open her door. Hesitant, as if almost afraid of what she would find outside, she let it fall open. Light footsteps carried her down the hall to where her parents slept. She wouldn’t believe that any of it was false until she knew they were safe, even though there was no evidence of the invaders anywhere. The door to their room was usually cracked so that they could hear what was happening in the rest of the house or in case she needed any help. Relief flooded her as lightning illuminated their sleeping forms. More tears spilled out over her cheeks. She wasn’t alone. No one was hurt. The nightmare was over, and only a storm and memories remained. Even though she had only faced her fears in a dream, she knew she would never be more thankful to see someone was with her.

(wc 771)