Bob

Bob was a very strong warrior in the past, who had mastered the ways of the Spear, the arts of Knavery, the Wand lore, and the skills of Archery from four masters specializing in each weapon. Each of the four masters had the most powerful weapon of its class for the time: Scythe, Maelstrom, Ethereal and Chakram. With the combined knowledge of his trainers, acquired through years of studying and practicing, he could craft his own improved weapons: Bob's Mythic Weapons. He had gained a great deal of fame throughout the Wynn region due to his ability. He had 3 loyal pets (Baab, Mooington, and Cluckles) which accompanied him during his journey, and they defended the Wynn province from hordes of the corrupted forces. At the age of 72, he set off towards the jungles near Troms, having heard of a beast promoting the corruptive forces within the province. This is presumed to be the Corrupter of Worlds. However, it is heavily implied that he lost the battle and was terminally injured afterwards. With that in mind, he then split his power into three pieces and planted them in his loyal animals. These loyal animals, who each received part of Bob's power, then were scattered to hidden places within the province's great ocean. Bob wanted to see who could find all three pieces of his power and become his successor, so he hid himself within a cave nearby to Nesaak. He is presumed to have died at this point, but it is left ambiguous as to the cause. The cave near Nesaak is currently known as Bob's Tomb. In the Reincarnation quest, the player must find the animals, enter the tomb, and defeat Bob's Reincarnation in his own heavenly realm. He chooses to fight like a warrior using Bob's Mythic Spear. This is the ultimate test for the players to prove themselves worthy of wielding Bob's Mythic Weapons and "earn their place among the soldiers of Wynn". It used to be the last and most difficult quest before the Tower of Ascension and later the Gavel Province were introduced, and Bob's Reincarnation was the most difficult boss.

Official Lore

10 years after the miners of Nemract wrought the nether curse upon the Wynn province, Ragni suffered one of the largest raids ever recorded on western soil, although the famous forts of Ragni and Troms were deemed impenetrable, this was unfortunately not the case when seas of monsters brought by the curse came knocking on the front gate. Being so early in the cursed war, Ragni’s army numbers were high and many a men laid down their lives to protect the families within the walls. However, the sheer numbers pressed against the door broke the hinges and the large gate fell into the bridge, and the largest horde recorded entered the city. Many of the residents were slaughtered, maimed or infected by the onslaught of creatures, those able to run hid in the sewers, a vast series of tunnels that run out of the city, and into the foulest place the humans could create, their prison. The idea was to combine two of the most horrible things, the untreated sewage, and the dark cells containing Wynns worst criminals, to add to their suffering. It really was a horrid place, but in a time like this, it was the safest place to be, and the women and children sought refuge in its stench. During the fight, a woman who never said her name, nor where she had come from (she certainly wasn’t one of Ragni’s own) gave birth to a baby boy on the cold floors of the sewer. Though the women accompanying her did all they could, the unknown woman did not survive the childbirth. The horde lasted 6 days and the sewer folk did not know if the baby would make it, the conditions were so rotten.

Against all the odds, the child made it, suffering no more but a smudge of dirt across his cheek, to everyone’s amazement, he was adopted by Ragni’s poorest resident, a single mother named Momo. He worked in a local bakery carrying bread and cake into the palace, taking whatever he could get away with. Despite his mother being poor, she was none the less intelligent, and taught the child, who she named Robert, everything she knew, taught him to read, write and to a degree, to fight. Robert was never a popular lad, always treated differently, his skin was a shade of grey unnatural to those of Ragni, who have always been fair skinned, as such he didn’t have many friends and wasn’t held particularly well among the older citizens either. When he was 12 years old, a horde found its way into the city once more, like it did just over a decade before, although far smaller than its predecessor, it was none the less a threat as Ragni’s army was so wounded from the last encounter, the beacons were not lit from the scouts, and caught the entire city by surprise, not Robert though, he always keeps a knife he stole from the butchers in his belt to protect the ones he loves. Being so poor, Momos shack was on the outskirts of Ragni and was one of the first to get hit, Robert ran for the house, finding it empty, but hearing a gasping from below. Entering the cellar, he found his mother lying bleeding beside a recently stabbed creature. He went to her aid, knowing it would be in vain. She simply nodded at him, they had made an agreement when Robert was 8 years old that if she ever became infected she wanted him to end her life, rather than endure the gruesome prolonged infection that had no cure. She placed in his hands a piece of parchment with a crude blood stained drawing of 4 areas each with a strange name under it he hadn’t heard of, she then pointed toward a chest in the corner that had always been locked before she grabbed his hand holding the butchers knife, to which she forced him to uphold his end of the agreement.

In the fires of the fight, Robert fled from the city, wielding not his butcher’s knife, but a pair of pitch black knives encrusted with symbols that glowed a purple colour, a cloak and a pouch holding what little food was left in the house. He headed east, to the sandy area indicated by his mother’s drawing, the one with the knife symbol, and the number “1”, when Robert reached it, he found one man, who did nothing but held out his hand, and Robert placed the only thing of value to him, the dark daggers in his hand. The man began to tell Robert of what he must now do to aid in the war; he must travel to the 4 masters of Wynn province, to learn their magic and skill if he is to lend his hand in the cursed war. Only once he had mastered one skill would he be given the key that the next master would accept. After 5 years of training to become an assassin, Robert was now 17 years old and incredibly powerful, the master, Chak, who had taught him told him his time was now up with him and he would have to progress to learn archer. Chak took Roberts daggers, to which the handles began to glow bright and moulded together to form a large sheen bow, to which he strung a thick strand of his own hair and handed it back to him, and said “even the most experienced soldier must start from scratch when learning a new mastery”, and it was true, Robert was not equipped to deal with any creature that faced him, he’d never even fired a bow!

Robert began his journey further south; past the blizzards into a pocket of land he’d never seen on any map the bow symbol with the number “2” accompanying it. It was home to only one building, a large mansion, to which a man stood with his hands outstretched as Robert approached. Just like 5 years previous, Robert handed him the bow, to which he said “I am Mael, master of archery, let us begin, just as you progress, as does the war.” To which Robert spent a further 5 years mastering the art of crafting and firing arrows, in any situation and learning the magic surrounding the bow. In this time, Robert also learnt about the areas he trained in, Mael was incredibly spiritual; the mansion in which he lived in was also house to many spirits which found Mael to heal them. Robert learnt about the other side and how many of the fallen soldiers return cursed to fight on the other side, to which Robert secretly hoped he was able to communicate with his deceased mother. However, Robert never expressed these desires, and Mael told him the time had come to learn some magic that involved no physical weapon that you could hit people with. Robert handed over his bow, to which a familiar glow transformed it into a pure black rod, with the same purple markings around them. Robert looked at the old, frayed map, to see the next area with a single line in it, and the number “3”, except this time, he knew what area that was. It was the forest he passed through when he was 12 years old to get to the desert to begin his training, he barely made it. For the first time since he began his training, Robert was filled with fear. The forest was full of spiders and poison, and the thought of poison always reminded him of the time he … Well never mind that, Robert set off to the forest wielding a stick that was about as much use as a hollowed out pumpkin. He couldn’t for the life of him make it work, regardless, when he reached the forest, he entered a mystical village suspended in the trees lit by hanging lamps, to which the familiar sight of a man with his hand outstretched grasped the wand Robert laid in his hand. “You are half way through your journey, do not let frustration warp you, let us begin the hardest of all arts.” Were the first words, Ethe, the magical master had ever said to him, and it was certainly true, wand lore had not come so easily to him as knavery or archery had, however the arts of magic eventually flowed through him over the coming 5 years, to which point Robert was now 27 years old, and beginning to wonder if he would ever remain young enough to fight in the war. Ethe told Robert it was time to move on, and transformed his wand into its final form, a giant black spear, even his mature eyes gleamed at the sight of it, the spear was the weapon of Troms, the greatest fort man had ever created.

The map indicated it; he must travel to Troms, where the last spear symbol and the number “4” were written. Upon arrival, Robert was surprised; the city had been hit – hard. He’d never heard of Troms so much as receiving a scratch from the creatures, it was so well guarded, but then again, Robert had been absent from civilization for 15 years. In the fires, a man stood with his hand out stretched, completely ignoring the pleads of the people around him begging for help, to which Robert placed his spear, and he said “This is the final leg of your journey, let the plights of this town that you see here today force you onward with your training, and help protect this land when you are done. My name is Fier, Let us end your training.” Robert spent the next 5 years learning the skills surrounding the spear in the great city of Troms, rebuilding and defending it when necessary in his spare time. It was the first time he was with people, and by people, I mean people that aren’t strict masters of their art that seem to solely exist to teach Robert the ways of the soldier. Robert learnt to love the people he was around, and people called him Bob, rather than Robert, a girl told him “I don’t know, I think you just sound better when you’re called Bob.” Robert liked it, and when he met new people, he introduced himself as thus. Fier’s training after 5 long years had finally come to an end, to which he said this “You are now the strongest soldier this province has ever seen, use your power wisely, and you shall end this war.” Then, to his surprise, all the masters materialised in a line beside Fier, and smiled, Mael even nodding slowly at him, to which a voice behind him said “Why are you crying Bob? There’s no one there…” The 4 masters vanished and Bob knew what he must now do, return to Ragni to save what little is left of it.

Bob then spent the remainder of his life serving as Wynns private demigod, destroying all creatures that ever came near a settlement under his protection, never passing on his skills, in fear they would not be used for the greater good, which troubled him, for if he were to pass, who would replace him? Certainly not his 3 companions, the animals which he loved dearly, perhaps he would brew them a potion, prolonging their life; they were good animals after all. Bobs story quickly became a huge beacon of hope for many fighting the war; no one could defeat Bob and his dark weapons. However people, this is where the story becomes myth I’m afraid, for after the events of Ragni’s 56th horde, some 40 years down the line at the ripe old age of 72, Bob vanished. It was rumoured he heard of a beast corrupting the province, promoting the war and increasing the strength of the monsters, I imagine Bob probably sought to destroy it, but in his old age, perhaps he wasn’t up to the mark. It was then, though, just one year after his disappearance, Bobs tomb appeared in the snow, marking the place where he was buried. By whom? No one knows. Perhaps it was the killer? Or maybe it was his master’s magic? It still lies there today, holding his body, it is worth a visit, many have told of great adventures and magic surrounding the place. One thing is for sure, Bob truly was the master of the Wynn arts, and will forever go down in our history as the mightiest solider, perhaps one day; you can follow in his footsteps.