The Search is over, but Dracon's problems are beginning again. After being stricken by a mysterious spell by an equally mysterious purple wizard, Dracon must journey to find a cure. Old friends and enemies return (or just have their names recycled) in the first sequel ever made from an RE story. All of the action, comedy, and poor writing is back in this short and incomplete continuation.

The cheese of lore, the Legendairy, is up for grabs in the Rumbl-o-Rama race! It is the same thing all over again, but slightly different.

This doppleganger story sees the events of the original RoR from a non-elder member perspective, although pretty much the same people joined in. See the mad goblin, the blue clad vagrant, and Writer77 in his final RoR appearance ever!

"We interrupt our regularly scheduled program to bring you this breaking report. We take you now to Cliff Danielson."

"Tragedy struck today in ways that no one ever expected to actually happen. Officials believed it to be a seasonal hoax, despite the flood of calls received on the matter. Now, it is known to be true. Ladies and gentlemen, we are being attacked... by the living dead. Hordes of decomposed bodies have risen from their graves and now walk among us, attacking the living to, yes, feast on their brains. We would like to remind our viewers that his is not a joke in any way, nor is it a themed, fictional program. This is real. We advise all of our viewers at home to stay there. Do not attempt to leave to find safer grounds. Officials are dealing with the situation. We take you now to the front of the epid-di-di-dimic with-ith-th-th-..." The broadcast broke to a nearly black screen, but faint outlines of a figure could be seen in the shadows.

A familiar taste poured over my tongue as I struggled to keep my balance. As the world tumbled around me I noticed an odd sanguine painting being created on the gravel. I might have even remarked on the odd placement of the painting if another fist hadn't exploded into my eye socket. Luckily the gravel caught me, though for some reason it tasted like blood. Despite my vision constricting as my cheek swelled, I looked upon my assailant once more. A cruel unyielding gaze returned from his scarred visage. This was no man, but an anabolically enhanced biological nightmare. Two massive, rippling arms raised me eye to eye with the beastly man, as two more extending from the middle of its chest snared my throat.

A standalone figure watched above, away from the frantics of the busy street. He turned his hooded head over, to where his shadowy face was finally visible. His red pupils shifted from one crowd to another, his mouth twitching, in the ice cold rain. His sleek hand rubbed off the hood, as his he concentrated, on the ocean of commotion, brought on by the humans.

The Emperor is holding a tournament to find the strongest fighter in the world. However, there is more to this simple spectacle and its participants than it would seem...

High Time is an action-packed adventure full of unique characters and intense battle sequences with an underlying and deeply seeded plot connecting the combatants in ways they do not yet fully understand.

[Ahh yes. Time to take my interest in WWII to the next level. WWIII!]

Death. Some would say it has no smell, but Alec would beg to differ. He'd been surrounded in it for two years now. If asked to describe the smell, he would say "Burning bodies, blood, and gunpowder." Most would suggest he get out of this line of work, but it was all he knew. It was all he had.