"Oh, that is so not cool... I created myself the way I wanted to be, only to be this... hideous, nude, bacon-looking thing!" Spunkm8 was definitely not amused. For starters, he regretted calling himself Spunkm8 almost instantly, proving that just because you can call yourself something stupid, doesn't mean you should. Secondly, he regretted picking the 'Deprived' class because it had the most even stats. "Ok, this calls for a restart." he said. And as quickly as Spunkm8's journey began, it was over.
After another attempt at character creation, Drake, the Warrior in possession of the Master Key, was ready. Even though he still looked like a victim of a gruesome death probably involving hell and/or ninjas. Mortal Kombat references aside, Drake stood up, wielding the hilt of a sword. "Pretty sure I'd be better off punching anything that stood in my way, but whatever." He said, before remembering he should talk like in the olden times. "Ferociously assaulting my foe with a clenched fist may prove to be somewhat more efficient than utilizing the hilt of a blade past it's prime." he stated. It was only after this was said that he realised how much he sounded like a total douche when he spoke like that. "Fuck it!" He shouted, grabbing a key from the floor. "Let's get this party started!" he said, unlocking the door that lay in front of him and kicking it open. He was truly prepared, albeit prepared to die.